The Dragon Rebels
by Lee Velviet
Summary: Draco returns to Hogwarts his Seventh Year with a new look - and a new agenda - to hack off his father in any way possible, including associating himself with Ginny Weasley. Chap. 19 Updated!
1. Default Chapter

_The Dragon Rebels_

**Author: **Lee Velviet

**A/N:** This chapter has been EXTENSIVELY revised and re-posted as of Dec.3, 2003. Standard disclaimer applies – I own NOTHING! More revisions, re-posts (and hopefully, updates!) to follow.

Thanks for reading!

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**One – **The Great Rebellion

* * *

**The** Hogwarts Express passed through the rough countryside in a streak of gleaming scarlet paint, and clouds of hazy silver steam.

Inside one of the passenger cars, in a small compartment, sat Ginny Weasley. Recently turned sixteen, and although much changed from the scrawny eleven-year old who'd attended her first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry years earlier, was still somewhat shy.

Ginny had several friends, though none of them terribly close, and had been a Chaser on her house Quidditch team for two years. She'd grown a few feet, managed to charm her mass of unruly red curls into a semblance of stylish order, and had perfected a glamour charm that slightly faded her sprinkle of childish freckles.

Brandy brown eyes flickered over the compartment in which she sat. Aside from herself, and her small carry-on pack, the space was otherwise unoccupied. Harry, Hermione, and her brother, Ron, were in their Seventh and final year at Hogwarts, and in the excitement of boarding, Ginny had sort-of found herself forgotten. The trio's compartment had been so full of other Seventh year friends that there really hadn't been room to spare.

Sad – but perfectly understanding, she thought – she'd taken herself of to another room, and tried to comfort herself with the fact that it was at the very least, quiet, something it never really was at the Burrow.

Ginny sighed and contemplated the land passing by beyond the large window. Who was she fooling? She didn't care for the quiet, not one little bit. If it was too quiet, and she had nothing to distract herself, she tended to think back on bad things, humiliatin things, things better left not thought on at all.

She was staring at the floor, thinking of taking out this years new Care of Magical Creatures book and thumbing through it, when the compartment door slid open without benefit of a knock.

Almost grateful for the intrusion, Ginny looked up from the carpet. Her tongue fused itself to the roof of her mouth as she caught herself mid-greeting, and her breath caught. Her heart jumped into her throat in a mixture of fear and surprise as she realized just who it was standing there.

Draco Malfoy – at least, she thought it was Draco Malfoy – stood in the narrow doorway.

She had her doubts. He looked both frighteningly familiar, and totally…different.

Her gaze traveled over his shoulders and chest, both of which had broadened and deepened over the summer holiday. A faded, disreputable-looking black t-shirt stretched across his skin, and was tucked into a pair of snug-fitting blue denims. She had to tear her gaze away from where it settled on the plain silver buckle of his leather belt, and her eyes dropped to the shaggy-looking cuffs of his jeans here they fell over the tops of a pair of heavily scuffed black boots.

"This seat taken?" he asked belligerently, and Ginny felt a shiver run up her spine at the unfamiliar growl-y depth of his voice beneath the cultured tones.

Her eyes shot upwards as she shook her head. "N-no," she blurted truthfully, when she'd actually meant to say in a very scornful way, "Yes!" She watched in dismay as the bane of her existence, which ironically didn't, in all likelihood, even remember she existed, flung himself into the seat across from her, sighing roughly as if he were very tired.

He threw a short leather jacket over the seat next to him, and stretched out long legs, crossing them at the ankles, ignoring the way Ginny frowned at his blatant invasion of her personal space.

He threw one arm behind his head, and proceeded to close his eyes.

A glint at his throat drew Ginny's distracted, scowling attention. A hissing silver snake about the length of her thumb curled, entwined, around a black, braided leather cord that hung around his neck. It was a simple, but impressive ornament, and seemed to speak volumes about his character.

Her now-thoughtful gaze wandered on, taking in the pale, sharp features, noting that they'd filled in and hardened a bit with maturity. His thin, cruel lips that spat such unbelievable venom at times had grown slightly fuller, seemed awash with color, almost as if they were a little bruised, or swollen…blushing wildly, Ginny swallowed, not wanting to speculate on just how they'd gotten that way.

Continuing to look him over despite her embarrassment, her eyes lingered on the dark, sardonic arch of his brows, the heavily-lashed eyes that when open, would most-likely be narrowed and dispassionate and of some pale, non-descript shade of gray. She wouldn't know, really. She'd never gotten so close to him as to be able to discern, or truly even _care_, what color his eyes were. She probably wouldn't even be able to tell now, partially shadowed as they were by dark-ish circles that screamed of several long nights without sleep, and the now overly long, spiky fall of his white-blonde hair. It was so odd – he'd always worn it severely slicked back against his head, but now it fell soft and loose in his stunning, silvery opal-colored eyes…

Which were now open, and looking right back at her.

Her well-developed Weasley self-preservation instincts kicked into overdrive. Years of anger and repressed dislike presented itself in a dark, glittery glare and a resentful mutter she wasn't even aware of leaving her lips.

"_Malfoy_."

His sullen, tired expression didn't so much as twitch. "Five points to Gryffindor," he drawled, lifting a hand to brush his hair from his eyes.

Ginny saw a wide, silver embossed black leather bracelet encircling his wrist, and a heavy onyx and silver ring adorning – what else – his middle finger. She rolled her eyes, not liking the thrown feeling she kept having. Everything about him seemed so different! Even his snobby, upper-class voice was lacking it's usual sarcastic bite.

"I suggest you stop staring, little girl." Malfoy yawned rudely, and dropped his head back on his seat closing his eyes again. "Maybe I'll let you touch me after I've had a nap, though I can't say I'm terribly partial to redheads…"

Cheeks flushing angrily, Ginny gritted her teeth and dropped her eyes as, unbelievably, he seemed to drop right off to sleep. She dug into her pack as he began to snore softly, and made as much noise as possible, pulling out a heavy book. She didn't bother glancing at the title – she just needed the diversion, otherwise she'd like as not get into trouble for hexing him off school-grounds for being such an irritating git. There was no way that was going to happen. She wasn't going to humiliate herself over the beast of a boy the way that she had the year previous.

He'd tripped her leaving the field after a particularly spectacular Gryffindor win against Slytherin, and had almost succeeded in breaking her neck! Her temper had gotten the better of her, and she'd pulled out her wand and hexed him, only to have him deflect it right back onto her. She'd had open boils for three days, and he'd laughed at her every time he'd passed her in the corridors. Here he didn't even _remember_ her!

She shouldn't have been surprised though, since the number of nasty things he did daily was probably mind-boggling.

Finding a page and resisting the urge to throw the book at Malfoy instead of reading it, Ginny glued her attention to the print, afraid of what she might do otherwise.

* * *

Draco carefully studied the girl across from him from beneath his lashes.

She was the littlest Weasley, he assumed. Her red hair didn't lie.

He'd noticed her staring at him dumbly when he'd first entered the compartment. He'd gotten a lot of that the past few months, come to think of it…but that didn't mean he was used to it, or even that he liked it. Perhaps it had stroked his ego at first to be the center of attention, but it had – surprisingly - faded quickly. He _was, _however used to people glaring at him hatefully, or at least with extreme dislike. This girl's awed countenance had succeeded in making him very truly uncomfortable for some reason, which was a near impossible thing to do.

After a while he fully closed his eyes, trying to go to sleep, something he knew he was in desperate need of, but to no avail – sleep wouldn't come. His curiosity about the little redhead had perked his interest, and he couldn't keep from stealing fascinated peeks at her through his lashes.

Outside in the corridor, he heard a female Prefect bitching self-importantly at some student or another, and then heard the unmistakable sounds of his 'friends' voices glumly answering back.

He was tempted to get up and go out to gloat at them – he'd recently had a massive falling out with Crabbe and Goyle, which had very unfortunately resulted in him having to sit with this Weasley, as it was the only half-empty compartment available - aside from the one Pansy Parkinson was holding court in with two other Slytherin girls, that was.

Draco hid a shudder, and growing bored with his thoughts, sat forward suddenly in his seat.

The redhead jumped, but recovered quickly, and seemed to be concentrating on ignoring him completely. He stared at her until she squirmed, and he caught her eyes flickering up at him for just an instant. He sneered faintly at her. It had the desired effect. She looked down again, focusing on her book, spots of bright pink high on her freckled cheeks.

Amused and satisfied with her discomfort, he sat back in his seat, slouching, and turned his head to look out the window. The inconstant sunlight streamed into his eyes and it felt like daggers entering his brain. Without asking permission, he reached over and closed the blinds with a distinct snap. He lifted a hand to his pounding head and looked back over challengingly to see if she'd object, but the girl was very quiet, thankfully. His lips twisted. She was probably too frightened of him to make any sound besides a squeak.

Draco tried briefly to recall her name, but his excessive partying of the evening before was making itself known again to an unusual extent. It continued to elude him, and he mentally shrugged. It didn't really matter, after all, did it? The Weasley's were pretty much all the same; red-haired, poor, annoying in their rabbit-like numbers…

Something bugged him about her, though. He had the odd feeling that he should remember her. He snuck a look at her from the corner of his eye, wondering at the strength of the curiosity he felt. She was nibbling at her thumbnail, brown eyes flying over the pages of her book as if she were nervous.

Draco smirked slightly and looked her over from a different perspective – that is, as if she was anything more than just another useless Weasley.

Her hair didn't seem quite so violent a shade of red-orange, nor so bushy. It seemed darker, more along a shade of deep scarlet, or the color of blood. She also seemed to have grown, he thought with a dawning awareness, in all the right places.

Feeling a cold, predatory smile curve his lips, his eyes traveled down the length of her legs, leaving him cursing the fact that she'd already changed into her black school robes. He directed his eyes back up, noting that her looks weren't entirely lamentable. Her lips were full, pink, and pouty, and her dusting of freckles was barely noticeable. Her peaches and cream complexion was clear and blemish-free, and her nose was small, but well-formed. She had a slender neck, a sweetly curved jaw line, and a pointy little chin. Her eyebrows were dark and neat, faintly arched, and her eyes were large, heavily lashed. They were the same color as the old, expensive brandy in the crystal decanters in his father's study.

The thought of his father had him sneering faintly again. Over the summer Lucius had been even more of a bastard than usual. His callousness toward himself and his clueless mother had gone a long way in making Draco realize that he could defeat his father by destroying himself, and his carefully cultivated image and reputation.

His mother had come to dub it _The Great Rebellion_, Draco's show of blatant disrespect, his refusal to wear his hand-tailored robes, his late nights out, his drinking, and revelry all over London with witches of 'questionable repute'.

He had to smirk at the memory of the look of murderous rage on his father's face early that morning when he'd finally succeeded in dragging himself into the foyer of the grand old Malfoy townhouse, smelling of alcohol and fairly drenched in cheap perfume, dressed from the throat down in rumpled black leather.

Lucius had been leaning on him ever since his fifteenth birthday about doing his 'duty', and serving his 'Master', and he'd gotten bloody tired of it. Draco had wanted to point out several times that thanks to the efforts of one Harry Potter, the Dark Lord was near death, and probably wouldn't be anyone's 'master' for very much longer. Death Eaters had become a swiftly dying breed, and Draco did not intend to ever _serve_ anyone – especially not an emaciated has been dark wizard who, despite his purportedly great powers, had never even been able to get rid of a troublesome infant.

Setting his jaw, Draco unconsciously crossed his arms, and the sudden movement made the girl across from his jump again. He grinned inwardly.

So she hadn't been as enthralled by the book in her hands as she'd seemed.

She lost her grip on the heavy book, and it slid off her lap onto the floor with a loud thud. He gleefully watched hr ears and face go scarlet, and bit back a mean laugh. He found himself leaning forward, reaching down to retrieve the book, when she did just the same, and they knocked their heads together soundly just as the train began to slow.

Draco cursed under his breath and rubbed his forehead, intending to straighten up, but the redhead lost her balance as the train braked too sharply, and she tumbled into his lap with a sharp squeal. He instinctively caught her by the arms to steady her, thoughtlessly asking, "Are you alright?"

The compartment door slid open just then, and he looked up to see her brother and Potter step in, their animated discussion coming to a halt as they looked at the entwined couple on the floor in absolute horror.

"Wha - ? _Bloody hell! Ginny_!"

"_Malfoy_!"

"Ginny? So _that's_ your name."

Draco's eyebrows shot up at what he heard next – a tiny whimper from the girl in his lap, and an aggravated sigh, followed by an entirely un-feminine curse.

"Oh, _balls_…"

* * *

Ginny looked up at Malfoy in extreme embarrassment, and then at her brother's livid face.

"Er, sorry," she managed in a humiliated, husky whisper, dragging herself off Malfoy's lap. Her knees were trembling, so she collapsed back into her seat, shoving the cursed book into her pack again.

Malfoy stood up, and faced the other two boys.

_Uh-oh._

Ginny wished she could melt into a puddle on the floor.

"What were you doing to my sister, Malfoy?" Ron asked, his face clouding like a threatening thunderstorm.

Malfoy crossed his arms – in a way that showed off the lean muscle of his biceps, Ginny noted grudgingly – and put on his trademark sneer. "Is it really any of your business, Weasley? I don't come around asking to know the particulars of yours and Potter's _relationship_, now do I?"

Groaning at the inference, Ginny put her face in her hands and waited for the blow-up, not noticing a pair of silvery-opal eyes flickering toward her from beneath hooded lids.

Ginny peeked up from between her fingers long enough to see Ron throw a vicious punch at the blonde Slytherin.

"Ron, _no_!" she shouted, jumping up, but Malfoy caught her brother's fist effortlessly in his own, and shoved it back at him violently. He never took his eyes off her face, and an icy shiver ran over her skin.

Ginny looked away, at Harry and Ron glaring at her and Malfoy.

Malfoy stared back at them for a long moment before grabbing his jacket and striding out of the compartment without a backward glance.

"And just what the _hell_ was that all about?" Ron immediately demanded, scowling down at his reddened fist and rubbing it.

Harry was looking angry and confused. His green eyes glinted strangely behind his glasses.

"Yeah, what was Malfoy doing in here?"

Her temper climbing close to the surface, Ginny sighed impatiently. Instead of saying something nasty like she really wanted to, she took a deep breath and tried very quietly to explain everything.

In the end, Ron still looked skeptical, but Harry seemed relieved.

Out in the corridor they heard the commotion of other students clambering off the train.

"Alright, whatever," Ron muttered, going to the door. "We'll meet you outside."

Ginny watched them go and wanted to scream. She turned away to get her pack.

"Ron, you _ass_," she seethed aloud. He was always treating her like a helpless, toothless little puppy, as if she couldn't take care of herself, as if she didn't have a bloody brain in her head –

"My, the little weasel has claws," came a cool drawl from the doorway.

Her head snapped up so quickly that she almost damaged her neck.

Malfoy was back, leaning against the doorframe, arms and ankles crossed. "Don't worry," he said in a thoughtful murmur, "I don't bite. Well, at least not if you don't want me to."

Ginny busied herself retrieving her pack, fighting down her urge to flee.

Malfoy swaggered in silently, and she almost lost her death grip on the pack straps.

"You know, there's something about you I like…Ginny."

Her eyes flew wide as he stalked her, and she didn't even realize she was moving until she backed into the wall. He moved one hand up to rest against the wall above her head, and she felt her heart drop this time, somewhere towards her feet. He had her effectively trapped, and her nerves quavered.

He dropped his head forward until he could speak directly into her ear. "I don't know what it is, really. Maybe it's the light in you. The honesty." He laughed when she shivered, mocking her. He brought up his other hand and twined one of her curls around his finger. "The _innocence_."

Ginny cringed.

"I've never met anyone who shows everything that they feel so clearly on their face, before. Everything you are, all the goodness in you, it's right there for everyone to see. I'm curious. I was standing outside, listening to you try to get out of trouble with your brother. You didn't even attempt to blame anything on me. Why? How could you defend me, of all people, to your brother and Potter?"

Ducking under his arm, Ginny walked to the door. "You did try to help me up, and you actually attempted to show some kind of concern when I lost my footing. You – showed me a kindness, " she ignored his snort of contempt, "so you can't be _all_ bad." She darted a look at him.

He slanted his disconcerting eyes at her, and then walked toward her, catching her lips in a hard, very brief kiss that made her head spin before he moved past her.

"You came to that conclusion just from the fact that I helped you up? Right. I may be a Slytherin, but I was raised to have _some_ manners. Sorry, Ginny, to disappoint, but I've always been bad. Nothing is ever going to change that."

Draco stepped out of the compartment berating himself. He should have left earlier, after the confrontation with Weasley and Potter, but some perversity had made him linger in the hall to listen to Ginny Weasley make nasty comments about him. She'd actually defended him, and it had completely thrown him. It seemed his nasty looks and bitter, cutting remarks had been lost on her.

If Draco had learned anything in his life, it was that to be bitter, one had to have hatred in their heart. To understand cynicism, a person had to have known it, been the constant recipient of it.

Although Ginny had doubtless seen the very face of evil more than once, she didn't yet know real hatred, couldn't yet grasp the very real fact that it even existed. Hatred was as alien to her as everything she was, was to him.

Draco left the train, frowning over a slight, aching warmth in his chest where he'd never felt any. It wouldn't last, he knew. He'd always been cold.

Nothing could ever make him truly warm.

* * *

TBC 


	2. Chapter Two Quidditch Trials

The Dragon Rebels

Author: Lee Velviet

Disclaimer: I own nothing - you know who all this stuff belongs to - J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., etc.

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Chapter Two - Quidditch Trials

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Ginny was walking down a rocky, gravel path surrounded by the members of the Gryffindor House quidditch team - Harry Potter,Seeker and Team Captain, her brother, Ron Weasley, their Keeper, and their Beaters, Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas. The tryouts were today, and they were on the lookout for two new Chasers to take the place of the other two girls who had finished their schooling the year before. 

Ginny and the boys crested a low, grassy hill, and stopped momentarily to look out over the huge quidditch pitch. Ginny took a deep breath of the cool fall air, as her eyes took in the familiar sights - the brightly colored house stands, painted to match the individual houses crests, and the long, colorful banners waving at the top of each. The pitch itself gleamed a healthy green, and the goal posts were bright with a fresh coat of paint.

"What the hell is Malfoy doing here?" Ron exclaimed suddenly, elbowing Harry, who shot him a dirty look before looking down.

"I don't know. We're on the list first, though," Harry muttered, pushing up his glasses on his nose. He readjusted his Firebolt on his shoulder and they all followed him down the sloping hill onto the pitch.

Malfoy met them. Ginny stood partially behind Harry, thoroughly disgusted with herself, and trying not to cringe.

"We have the pitch first, Malfoy," Ron was complaining.

"There is no rule against us being here, though. Really, you should try not to be so bloody paranoid." With a cool look, he turned and walked away, his team meeting him on the edge of the field.

Ginny saw Harry and Ron look at each other in surprise that he hadn't stuck around to further insult them.

"Bloody intimidation tactics, is what it is," Ron muttered darkly.

Ginny caught herself looking around Harry's shoulder at the green-clad Slytherin team, eyeing one in particular with avid curiosity, and she shook herself.

It wouldn't do to start developing a crush on a Malfoy.

No, it wouldn't do at all...

* * *

Ginny hovered, feeling sweaty and gritty, in front of the goals, thinking over the past half-hour. She'd been acting as Keeper ever since a too excited and enthusiastic throw from a fourth year Gryffindor named Curtis Hartman had sent a normally harmless Quaffle into Ron's shoulder. Ron had left to go to the Infirmary very reluctantly. 

So far Ginny had only seen two really good potential players - Curtis Hartman, who'd really be a better Beater, and another fourth year girl, named Molly Colerain, who had short, spiky blonde hair and an annoying habit of snapping her bubble gum; but she had a wicked reverse pass, and a positive, upbeat attitude. She reminded Ginny of what Madam Hooch must have looked like in her youth.

Harry flew up level with her then, and she saw a trickle of sweat run from his temple down his neck. His cheeks were flushed, and he had a smudge of dirt along the edge of one jaw line. Ginny thought he'd never looked so handsome. Then she realized he was talking to her.

" – guess that's it."

Ginny blinked as Harry tucked his head into his shoulder to dry the dampness from his brow. She concentrated on the gloved fingers curled around the handle of his Firebolt, noting the bitten fingernails - only _she_ would think that bitten fingernails were an endearing trait.

"You mean, that's all of the tryouts." Ginny sighed. She'd thought she was past the crushing on Harry stage. _I am,_ a part of her thought indignantly.

"Yeah." Harry looked back at the ground over his shoulder. "It looks like it'll be Hartman and Colerain. What do you think?"

Ginny shrugged, though secretly pleased he cared enough to ask her opinion. "Molly is good - Curtis would be too, if we could get his aim straight. I actually think he'd be a better Beater."

Harry smiled distractedly as he looked back at her. "It should be interesting to see him in the first match. Maybe he'll hit Malfoy."

"Well, speaking of - Malfoy is looking impatient. I can see him glaring daggers at your back from here. We better clear off." Ginny prided herself on keeping the slight tremor she felt in her throat out of her voice.

Harry snorted, bringing his broom around until he was beside her, and facing the same direction. He readjusted the glasses slipping on his nose and then shook his head. Ginny caught a glimpse of his seldom seen scar through his sweat-dampened bangs.

"Since when does Malfoy call the shots around here?" He grinned. "Race you round the pitch? C'mon, just once – it'll really get on his nerves."

Ginny grinned back. How could she resist? "Okay - ready?"

* * *

Ginny was laughing giddily a few minutes later as they landed on the grass beside the edge of the field. Harry was grinning like mad as he shouldered his broom. 

"I can't believe I just did that!" Ginny put her hand over her thumping heart and laughed breathlessly. She'd followed Harry on every loop, hairpin turn and spectacular dive he'd made - and had done it unflinchingly.

Harry looked at her; impressed - his cheeks were pink, his dark hair standing out, ruffled in all directions, emerald eyes bright and sparkling. "I think you would make a great Seeker. I didn't know you could fly like that."

Ginny shook her head. "I didn't either…must be the broom." Ginny glanced down at the second-hand Firebolt she'd worked two part time jobs in the village for all summer long.

"No, Ginny. Don't sell yourself short. You've worked hard to get where you are, now. You deserve the praise."

Ginny blushed a little. "Thanks, Harry." She looked past Harry's shoulder and felt her smile fall. Malfoy was looking at them coldly.

Harry's smile fell, too, when he saw her face, and threw a narrow-eyed look over his shoulder.

Ginny grabbed his arm and tugged him forward. "So, anyway, what do you think we can do about Curtis - ?"

She managed to divert Harry's attention, and they made their way back to the castle to see about Ron. Ginny tried to ignore the eyes she felt boring into her back as they left.

* * *

Draco felt his eyes narrow on Ginny as he watched her face while she talked to Potter. Her face positively lit up as she talked, and he noticed the way her body leaned toward him, the way she put her fingers to her throat as she laughed at something he said. 

He felt a scowl emerge on his face as he watched Potter lower his head to say something close to her ear. He wanted to go over slug the prat in the gut - which was nothing new, but why want to do it over Ginny Weasley?

Draco sneered and turned away to wave his team over. He didn't have any wish to bother wasting his time thinking about the littlest Weasley.

His Father would send a couple of vengeful Death Eaters after him if he had any idea about the identity of the girl his only son was having sudden - albeit _unwanted _– impure thoughts about.

He suddenly felt an utterly evil, thoroughly despicable grin cross his lips as an unexpected plan began to form in his mind.

Yes, his father would shit twice and die if he heard he was chasing after the Weasley girl – ah, no - better yet, keeping _company_ with her.

_Oh, this is priceless_, he thought as he mounted his Firebolt and rose into the cool air above the pitch. The idea had merit - but did he want to go that far, just to show his complete and utter lack of respect for his father?

The memory of Ginny straddling her broom across the field from him that morning came to mind, unbidden, and Draco reached up to tug at the necklace around his suddenly tight throat.

He rolled his eyes. Well, his body had certainly answered with a resounding YES!

Draco spent the rest of the Slytherin team trials in an extreme state of discomfort - and if the players noticed his sudden attack of temper, no one dared say a word.

* * *

TBC 


	3. Chapter Three No Way!

**The Dragon Rebels**

**Author:** Lee Velviet

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing - you know who all this stuff belongs to - J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., etc.

**Chapter Three -**No Way!

* * *

"Really? Cracked in three places? No way!"

Ron nodded proudly. "Yep. Not any more of course - Madame Pomfrey took care of it already. She's making me stay in bed '˜till tomorrow."

"Oh, and that's just killing you, isn't it? No homework for you tonight," Ginny said teasingly.

Ron shrugged his good shoulder. "I should get hurt more often," he commented thoughtfully.

Harry nudged Ginny. "I think we're going to have to watch him. You know how much he dislikes homework."

Ginny looked at her brother through narrowed eyes. "I also know how much he dislikes pain. Did I ever tell you about that time when he was nine and he fell on the fence behind our house - ?"

"Ginny!" Ron looked at her, horrified, his cheeks burning as red as his hair. His eyes were wide and embarrassed.

"Well, now I know what to do to get him to shut up," Harry chuckled, his eyes twinkling.

"Oh that's fine! Go on then - laugh at a child's pain!" He scowled, looking at them angrily.

"It wasn't the pain I was laughing at. It was the memory of you cursing like a sailor, only in a girl's voice." Ginny giggled and looked at her brother fondly.

"Ha, ha."

"Oh, all right, I'll leave you alone," Ginny, said, patting his foot. "I love you. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Right," Ron grumbled, shooting her a dirty look when she reached over and pinched his cheek, as their mother was wont to do.

"Goodnight, ickle Ronniekins," Harry mocked, snickering as they left, ducking a well-aimedpillow.

* * *

"What do you suppose is wrong with Malfoy?" Someone asked from down the table.

Harry snorted. "Please, don't get me started."

Ginny peeked around Harry's shoulder where he sat across from her at dinner in the Great Hall, and flinched when she discovered Malfoy staring at her from his table. She hurriedly looked down at her plate, swallowing. She threaded her fingers through her hair nervously.

"I heard his Father disowned him."

Hermione looked over at Seamus, who sat next to her, his mouth full of food. "Now, that could hardly have happened - would he be at school? He wouldn't be able to afford tuition,"she scoffed, using common sense as usual.

Seamus shrugged. "It's what I heard. It seems true enough from here…looks like he dressed from a charity bag."

"He does not!" Ginny heard herself say indignantly. Her face burned as half the table turned to eye her.

Harry's mouth drew into a forced grin. "Looks like Malfoy has another follower."

"No way!" Ginny pushed her plate away. "I just don't think people should be judged by their clothes."

Seamus had the good grace to look ashamed.

Hermione sighed. "He doesn't seem half as insulting as he usually is, is what I meant."

"Half is too much when it comes to him," Harry muttered under his breath.

"Harry," Ginny murmured chastisingly. "No need to sink to his level."

Harry rolled his eyes and turned his attention to his dessert.

"Why the concern anyway, Hermione?" Seamus looked across at Malfoy curiously. "It's not like he ever showed you a bit of kindness in the past. He called you a-a _Mudblood_ for Merlin's sake!" This last he hissed in a whisper.

Hermione shrugged. "I feel sorry for him, is all."

It was everyone's turn to stare at Hermione.

Hermione looked impatient. "What? It's not his fault he has such a bad outlook on life – just look at who his father is." Several people made different comments at this.

"Great," Seamus groaned, laying down his fork. "First it was the House Elves, and now it's Draco Malfoy. What kind of badges are you going to make this time, Hermione? I can see it now - the Society for the Promotion of Ambitious Wanking Nutters!"

"S.P.A.W.N." Harry nodded. "Sounds fitting."

"I'm going to bed." Hermione stood up, clearly disgusted. "Maybe you'll be more open-minded in the morning. I hope you can learn to look at Malfoy in a kind, understanding manner."

"Only if God has a sense of humor," Seamus chortled across the table at Harry.

Hermione shook her head in exasperationand moved off.

Ginny said her goodnights too, and left soon after.

She was halfway to the Gryffindor tower when she heard footsteps behind her. She didn't think much of it, but when she looked over her shoulder in curiosity, she froze on the spot. It was Draco Malfoy.

Ginny swallowed hard and made herself turn back around, forcing down the urge to run away in a panic. What was she getting all uptight about? Maybe he was going to the library or something.

"Weasley! Ginny! Wait!"

She felt her eyes widen when she heard him call her name. She stopped, waiting for him to catch her up. What she really wanted to do was melt into the floor.

Malfoy appeared next to her a moment later, his cheeks slightly flushed. "Hi."

Ginny kept her head down out of self-preservation. She choked out a response.

"I heard what you said at dinner. Thanks."

She looked up at him in surprise. "What?"

"You shouldn't have been defending me, though, you know. Every word they said is absolutely true. Except for the disowning and getting my clothes out of a charity bag thing." He smirked slightly, shoving his hands in his robe pockets.

Ginny stared at his necklace again. She didn't really know what to say.

"Hey." his finger curled under her chin, and he tilted her face up. "You're not…_scared_ of me, are you?"

The widening of her eyes answered him.

He chuckled lowly.

Ginny frowned and moved her chin away from his touch. "Don't flatter yourself."

"It's nothing I wasn't already well aware of anyway," he drawled lazily, pushing his hair from his eyes. "You needn't be embarrassed."

"I'm not!" she denied hotly, staring down at his pale, flawless hands.

"No, I suppose your face always turns that attractive shade of mottled red when you talk to everyone else."

"Do you mind? I have Potions homework to do, and I'd like to get to bed before dawn." She tried to move past him.

"Potions?" He looked at her appraisingly and a slow smile crossed his lips. Ginny decided she didn't like it. "What a coincidence – so do I. Why don't you meet me in the library? I can…help you with it."

Horrified by the thought of having to spend more than one minute in his company, Ginny shook her head, trying her best to stammer an excuse.

"No?" He actually looked disappointed.

She was struck by the hurt look on his face. Had she ever seen Malfoy look 'hurt' about anything?

* * *

Ginny found herself alone in the library with him less than ten minutes later. She still wasn't quite sure just how they'd gotten there.

She nervously watched as he settled down in a chair next to her, pulling his books from his bag.  
Ginny busied herself setting out her own things, the silence of the empty library making her extremely uncomfortable.

"Let's see. Oh, I remember this assignment." He'd picked up her parchment, which had her notes and the beginning of the first draft of her report on it. He barely glanced at it. She watched in disbelief as he crumpled the parchment in his hand and tossed it over his shoulder.

"What are you doing?" she hissed angrily.

"You wouldn't have gotten a good score on that. I know how Snape works."

Ginny just stared at him.

"Don't look so lost." His eyes looked soft and gray in the dim light, and Ginny found herself getting lost in them. Then…he blinked and Ginny woke up. She looked away and stared down at the polished wood table as if it contained the secrets of the universe.

Malfoy pulled out a fresh piece of parchment and handed it to her. "Trust me, Ginny – I'll help you out."

His soft voice sent shivers down her spine. _Trust_ him? She trusted him about as much as she liked being in his company!

* * *

Ginny was laughing as she closed her Potions book an hour and a half later. "That is so wrong! I can't believe you did that! Well, I can – but still!"

Draco laughed, quietly and with a slight hesitation, as if he wasn't really used to it. He slung his book bag across his shoulder and stepped around a chair to follow her from the library.

"Then you probably wouldn't believe I did it again the next night to Millicent Bulstrode's bloody evil cat," he added dryly.

Ginny burst out laughing again.

Draco watched her closely. It hadn't taken much to win her over, which was surprising since she'd been so snowed by that cursed diary years ago. He'd have thought she'd have wizened up a bit, and run off in absolute terror when he mentioned helping her with her homework. Instead she'd turned out to be an utter delight. She was so innocent and sweet, so generous of nature it made his mouth water, and he smirked inwardly to himself.

Who'd have thought that tiny bit of freckles and red fluff he'd picked on years ago in Flourish And Blotts would grow into such an appealing looking young woman? He'd had to look twice, true, but it had just taken some time to get past the ingrained dislike of anything Weasley related.

He said goodnight to her reluctantly outside the library tapestry, watching her walk away with no little interest.

It was going to be fun to see how long it would take to corrupt her thoroughly. Hell, it'd be fun just corrupting her. He eyed the sway of her hips and the length of her red curls as she walked away, and felt a corner of his lips curl.

Lucius was going to have an absolute apoplexy by the time graduation had rolled around.

* * *

Ginny woke up feeling incredibly guilty the next morning. Had she actually had a good time with Draco last night?

Had she actually just thought of him as Draco?

She got up and dressed, guilt weighing heavily on her shoulders.

Malfoy had been nothing but nasty to her family and friends the past years - why would he suddenly decide to befriend her? She had to be mad. Draco's own father had almost gotten her killed with Riddle's diary her first year. There was no way she could ever trust him, even if he really had had nothing to do with it.

Ginny shook her head. Something was rotten in Hogwarts.

* * *

"Gee, Ginny, you look sick," Ron remarked that evening at dinner.

Ginny shot him a dirty look across the table. "I feel fine, thanks."

Ron shrugged. "Just give a fellow fair warning if you're in danger of heaving, will you? I'm wearing my best robes."

"She's probably just overly full from that bite of dinner she almost had," Seamus Finnegan remarked over Hermione's head.

"Since when are my eating habits anyone's business but my own?" Ginny demanded, scowling.

"Tetchy!" Seamus looked at Ron."Maybe you should go to bed," Ron suggested in an irritatingly brotherly manner.

"Maybe," Ginny sighed and pushed her plate away. She just couldn't make herself take a single bite. She had been feeling guilty over the Malfoy dilemma all day, and her nerves were shot from worrying about anyone finding out. She'd never hear the end of it.

"Harry, would you mind…er…helping me with my Herbology homework?" Ginny looked over at him appealingly, a sudden idea occurring to her.

He blew his untidy black fringe of bangs off his forehead and looked at her in surprise. Usually, Herbology was one of her best classes; plus, she never asked anyone for help with her homework unless it was Hermione.

Hermione looked slighted, but didn't say a word. Ginny had been acting odd all day long.

"Er-okay. Did you want to go now?" Harry was watching her closely from behind his glasses.

"Yes," Ginny said a little too eagerly, and stood up abruptly.

Harry shrugged at a suddenly frowning Ron and stood up too.

* * *

Ginny was fairly running down the corridors. Harry grabbed her arm, slowing her down.

"Okay, what is this all about?"

Ginny stopped in the corridor and bit her lip. "Can we just talk about this in the common room?"

She was desperate to get out of the halls before Malfoy appeared somewhere, offering his services again - oh, that hadn't come out right at all…

"What's wrong?" Harry's voice was softer now, and he allowed her to tug him by his robe sleeve down the hall.

"Well, you see…" Ginny's mind whirled for an excuse, but remained frustratingly blank. "I just…wanted you to walk with me, is all." Well, that was partially the truth.

"Mm-hmm." Harry looked down at her, and she could feel his eyes on her, but didn't look up.  
Ginny made such a sound of relief when they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, that Harry took her shoulders and made her face him.

"You didn't really want help with your Herbology homework, did you?"

She looked at him hesitantly. "Well – "

"You can't lie to me, you know that," Harry grinned, a slight dimple in his cheek winking. "You gave up trying years ago, you remember? When I spent the summer at the Burrow, and you knew what my birthday present was, and I kept bugging you about it? You kept turning all red and splotchy – "

"I'm glad to hear that you remember that so vividly," Ginny grumbled slightly. Then her hands reached up to cover her cheeks. "Oh, are you saying I'm all red and splotchy again?"

Harry laughed and pulled her hands away. "Tell me what's wrong." He arched a brow when she remained stubbornly silent and crossed his arms. "We can stand here all night, you know."

"No you cannot!" They turned to see the Fat Lady watching them with interest. Her full cheeks flushed slightly. "Well, you can't!" she huffed.

Harry rolled his eyes and said the password, "Fizzing Whizbee's", and helped Ginny through the entrance.

He led her to a chair near the fire straight away, and tried to give her a stern look.

"Tell me your secrets," he said in an exaggerated whisper, wiggling his eyebrows.

Laughing, Ginny shook her head. "I really don't know what to say. I just wanted someone to walk with back here."

"You could have asked Hermione."

"No, you see, I wanted a male someone to walk with." _And Draco Malfoy doesn't like you one bit…_

He frowned, and looked at her intently. "Ginny…is someone bothering you?" 

"No!" She may as well have shouted yes.

He sighed, sitting on the arm of her chair. "Just as I feared." His green eyes looked at her steadily. "It's Malfoy, isn't it," he said this with another resigned sigh, tugging at his glasses.

Horrified, Ginny leapt out of the chair and began pacing. "What would make you think a thing like that! Maybe I'm just having a hard time getting readjusted to the dimness of the halls!"

"Maybe you're having a hard time getting used to the fact that he's taken a liking to you."

"What? Me?" She shook her head, red curls flying. "No way!"

"I seem to be hearing that an awful lot today," Harry murmured, and then shook his head. "Ginny, Ron and I saw you two on the train – "

"How many times do I have to tell you, that was an accident - and he dislikes me as much as he does Ron!"

"It may well have been, but he was eyeing you in a very interested way - has been ever since, in point of fact." He narrowed his eyes in thought. "I wonder what he's got planned."

"How do you know he has anything planned?" Ginny asked a bit desperately.

"When _hasn't_ he got anything planned?"

Ginny sighed and dropped back into her chair. "He helped me with my homework last night in the library."

Harry's eyes widened. "He…_helped_ you?"

"Yes, as in 'hey, you got this ingredient wrong, that's why your potion turns orange instead of black.' As in, 'It'd probably be better if you used powdered horn of Bicorn here instead of chopped.' She made a fluttering motion with her hands. "He _helped_ me."

Harry looked confused. "So - why did you want me to walk you here?"

"He _scares_ me, all right! God, Harry, are you absolutely clueless?" Ginny flopped back in the chair miserably. "I didn't want to run into him in the halls again, by myself that's why I asked you to walk with me."

"Oh." His eyes hardened and he stood up. "Did he…try anything?"

"What?" She shook her head, remembering the kiss on the train. "No, no. He was a perfect gentleman."

"Well, that's a flaming arrow in itself. You have no idea the reputation he's got with girls – " He cut himself off. "Guy stuff," he waved this away with flushed cheeks at her questioning look.

"Well, I'm just going to have to ignore him," Ginny said this more to herself than to Harry.

"As if he'll allow you to," Harry snorted. "You know what? You should talk to him."

"What?"

"Yeah…you can see what he's up to."

"You mean spy on him?"

"No, I wouldn't tell you to do that - but you have to admit, getting in friendly with Malfoy would probably be helpful to you. At the very least you wouldn't have him breathing down your neck all year, torturing you. Plus, letting him help you with your homework might get you a good score in Potions - and you know how utterly impossible that is if you're not in Slytherin." He shrugged. "I can't believe I just suggested that, but, oh, well. Maybe insanity runs rampant in my family."

Ginny gaped at him. "No, I _know_ it does! Where's Harry? What have you done with him?"

He grinned widely, his eyes bright. "Oh, come on. I'm trying to be all 'kind and understanding', here. I mean, Malfoy is clearly on the outs with his family. If he finally wised up to how much of an insane, evil wanker his father is, he can't be all bad. I'm not telling you to run off and marry the git, I'm just saying, maybe…maybe you're mistaking fear for something else."

Ginny made a doubting face. "If you say so."

"I still think he's out to get me for some reason,"Ginny sighed.

Harry nodded solemnly. "Probably." He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe I should try and look up that ferret transfiguration spell, just to be on the safe side."

* * *

Draco was cursing the fact that he'd missed Ginny. He'd seen her practically run out of the Great Hall earlier with that prat, Potter.

He shut his eyes momentarily; trying for patience. Pansy Parkinson's hand was on his thigh – again - and he swore he was going to turn her into an octopus. She seemed to already have the tentacles of one.

He reached under the table and gave her wrist a vicious pinch.

She bit back a yelp and pulled her hand back, glaring at him.

"Sorry, not interested," he said through his teeth for what seemed the thousandth time.

The round featured girl who was passable pretty in the candle light, tossed back her dark hair, and snapped, "I know what's going on. You've been staring over at her all bloody night. You've a crush on that little Weasley girl, haven't you?"

Draco didn't bother denying it, though he wouldn't call it anything so infantile as a crush. Pansy had a mouth the size of the Black Hole of Calcutta, anyway, and it would get back to his father quickly enough.

"Your father is not going to be happy about this. I know for a fact he intends for us to marry."

Draco gave her a chilling smile. "Oh, really? How exciting. Tell me, have you thought of seeing Madame Pomfrey?"

"For what?"

"For whatever bizarre mental defect you have that makes you think I'd _ever_ let myself be forced into marrying a spiteful little autocrat like you. It'd be like marrying Lucius." Draco looked at her in disgust and stood up. "In case you haven't noticed, I don't give a Hippogriff's ass for what my father wants, so keep on dreaming."

He could feel the girl glaring daggers at his back as left, and knew he probably shouldn't have said that, but he was feeling annoyed anyway. He had planned on seeing Ginny that night, after all.

Oh, well. He slowly took the steps down to the dungeons, frowning thoughtfully, pulling back the sides on his robes to stuff his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

He'd just have catch her off guard tomorrow. He wouldn't give her the chance to run and hide. Although, the idea of playing hide and seek with the curvaceous little redhead had definite possibilities…

Draco entered the Slytherin dungeon and walked through the common room, to his dorm. Once inside, he sat on his bed and pulled off his boots, eyeing the scuffmarks on them somewhat distastefully before dropping them on the floor next to his bed.

He pulled off his black robes and absently popped the button on his jeans before falling back onto his pillows and closing his eyes.

Ginny Weasley's face was still there, her brown eyes warm and friendly, unguarded as she laughed. He found himself smiling; a real smile, and he pushed it away irritably. Smiles hurt his face - he'd much rather frown or scowl any day.

He rolled onto his side, feeling pleasantly sleepy and oddly disappointed that he hadn't gotten to talk to Ginny. Or touch Ginny. Or _kiss_ Ginny…

Draco drifted off to sleep, barely aware of that damn smile sneaking back onto his face and playing on his lips.

* * *

Ginny bit off a unladylike curse as a huge splotch of blue ink spattered onto her potions homework - it was after midnight, and she was regretting the fact that she hadn't stuck around to talk with Malfoy. He'd made the torturous task halfway enjoyable the night before, and it hadn't taken her three hours to finish, either.

She sighed tiredly and pulled out a fresh piece of parchment to begin to recopy the assignment. Snape would take points off for messy work.

An hour later Ginny dusted the parchment with sand, rolled it up, and shoved it into her threadbare book bag with a relieved sigh.

She could spend the rest of the year going to bed in the middle of the night, or she could accept Malfoy's help - just making sure that she stayed emotionally distant, of course. It wouldn't hurt to let him help her, surely. All she had to do was make sure there was a line drawn, and Malfoy kept on his side of it.

Ginny crawled thankfully into her bed thinking she'd be _really_ stupid to believe she could make Draco Malfoy do anything.

* * *

"Hmmm," Draco rolled onto his back, a satisfied smile curving his mouth, even though he was far from…satisfied. He opened his eyes sleepily, and looked up at the canopy. The dormitory room was gray with light from the dawn. He sent a glare over at Crabbe's bed. The boy was snoring loud enough to wake the dead. Presumably that had been what had so rudely interrupted his rest.

He'd been dreaming about Ginny Weasley in a way that had made some of his real life escapades over the summer pale to nothing in comparison – and that was saying something.

Draco threw an arm over his eyes, groaning, and tried desperately to go back to sleep - Ginny had been doing something even _he'd_ thought was shocking, and he wanted to see if he could shock her back…

* * *

"He's staring at you again," Hermione hissed sing-song into Ginny's ear during the lunch hour.  
Ginny poked a hole in the bread of her sandwich, pushing it aside before risking a glance up. Draco looked at her in a way that made her cheeks and ears burn.

"I wish he'd stop," she muttered, tapping her foot impatiently. Was the day never going to end? She'd been seriously thinking of just totally ignoring him. It was funny how things looked different after a night's rest.

"Why? He is rather good looking after all."

Ginny looked at Hermione oddly. "Do you fancy him, then?"

"Well, no, not really. You know I like Ron."

"Too bad you can tell everyone else but him," Ginny stated dryly.

"Oh, leave me alone. Ron thinks of me as his sister. Do you know how scandalized he'd be if he knew I thought of him in, well, in _that_ way?" Hermione looked embarrassed, and stuck her nose back in a book.

Ginny rolled her eyes and felt like kicking the other girl. Ron liked Hermione in a non-brotherly way – they were both too stupid to realize it, though. What they needed, in Ginny's opinion, was for Viktor Krum to make another appearance. Ron would fall all over himself trying to win Hermione's heart. He was obviously very jealous of her.

She looked up again, and saw Draco - er, _Malfoy_ - talking to Pansy Parkinson, who had settled in the seat next to him. She was unprepared for the wicked thump her heart gave. She ground her teeth as she saw the girl take his hand, and then looked away. So what? It wasn't any of her business who Draco - damn it, _Malfoy's_ - girlfriend was. So what if she was a detestable vindictive cow? What did she care? She really didn't.

"Oh my!" Ginny looked back distractedly at Hermione's gasp. "What is it - ?"

To Ginny's horror, Draco was snogging Pansy Parkinson's face off right in front of everybody!

"_Ew_! Oh. That's just all kinds of wrong." Hermione made a face and looked at Ginny. Her friends' face had gone pale and her freckles were standing out with a vengeance. She watched disbelieving as Ginny stood up, her expression changing from shocked to furious, and she stalked out of the great hall, her small fists clenched at her sides.

Hermione looked from Ginny's back to Malfoy, and back again, realization dawning on her face. If she didn't know any better, it would seem as if Ginny fancied Draco Malfoy forherself! She almost could have laughed.

"No way!"

* * *

TBC 

A/N: (Thanks so much for reading and reviewing! - Lee)


	4. Chapter Four The Field Trip

**The Dragon Rebels**

**Author:** Lee Veviet

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing - you know who all this stuff belongs to - J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., etc.

**Chapter Three -** The Field Trip

* * *

The sixth and seventh year Muggle Studies classes were taking a Saturday trip to a very small Muggle city a good way from Hogwarts to study Muggles and their environment in real life. Due to the length of time the trip would take by train, several of the Professors were using Portkeys to transport the students safely outside the city limits.

Ginny waited outside in the courtyard in a small group of about six students. Harry, Hermione and Ron had already gone on, Ginny having arrived nearly too late. She'd been busy still fuming about Malfoy and Pansy. She hadn't even been quite sure why.

She'd almost taken his head off when he'd had the nerve to come up to her after dinner the other evening and claim that Pansy had been the one to do the kissing.

"Yeah, right," Ginny mumbled under her breath, looking around impatiently. As if she'd ever believe that. She didn't care who he went around with, anyway, so why had he felt the need to explain himself to her? She clenched her jaw and commenced tapping the tope of her tennis shoe against the ground. Ugh. What were they _waiting_ for?

"Finally," she heard one of the other girl students waiting with her sigh. "Frigging Malfoy - always has to be the center of attention."

"Yes, but he's so tasty," came another girl's breathy voice, and when Ginny turned to look at him, she reluctantly had to agree.

Draco walked up, dressed in his ragged jeans, heavy black boots, and a simple gray t-shirt that did unbelievable things for his eyes. A velvety soft looking charcoal colored long sleeve shirt was open over that, and she could see the ever-present silver snake on the necklace around his throat twinkling in the mid-morning light. He looked at her dismissively through his long, slightly waving bangs as he stopped near her, his fingers curled loosely around the strap of the black leather pack slung over one shoulder.

Ginny's fingers twisted around her own pack in a death grip.

They received a cautionary speech from their professor, their instructions, and maps, rules and so on, and then they were motioned forward to touch the Portkey.

Malfoy's fingers brushed hers as she placed her fingers on the weathered stone sundial, and her eyes met his again just before she was jerked strongly forward.

* * *

Neville Longbottom was busy being violently ill.

Ginny felt terribly sorry for him but couldn't quite keep her nose from twitching in disgust at the ghastly, loud retching noises.

"Some people just can't handle traveling by Portkey," Professor McGonagall was saying soothingly as she patted Neville's back. Ginny was still surprised by how oddly different the older woman looked in a long denim skirt with buttons running up one side, short brown boots, and a heavy cream colored cable-knit sweater that fell low over her skinny hips. Her hair was still up in its customary bun, and her half-moon glasses still resided upon her nose, but she looked softer, almost motherly.

Neville made a sound of abject misery and retched again, burying his head and shoulders in a bush, and even McGonagall rolled her eyes and made a face. Several students made noises of both pity and revulsion and moved farther away.

Ginny tapped her foot, and then looked around the small clearing they'd appeared in curiously. Her eyes caught on something dark against the greenery.

Malfoy was leaning against a tree, his arms and ankles crossed, staring at her.

Of course that was ridiculous - he was wearing a pair of dark, silver rimmed sunglasses, and she couldn't really tell if he was staring at her or not. But she could feel his eyes on her.

A corner of his lips curled slightly upwards as she watched, and she realized she was the one staring.  
Ginny bit her lip and turned away. She made herself think of poor Neville, and moved toward him to see if there was anything she could do to help.

They finally made it into the Muggle city after a twenty-minute walk through a densely wooded area and along a narrow stream that led to a bridge with cars crossing it.

As they navigated the sidewalk alongside the bridge, Ginny kept close to the wall and wrinkled her nose at the exhaust fumes from the passing vehicles. The harsh odors made her throat and chest ache.

Professor McGonagall left them at a corner telling them to stick close together in pairs at all times, and to remember to use their four point spell if they ever did get lost, which was a near impossibility as small as the city was.

Ginny looked at the pale, trembling Neville and quickly amended that thought. _Neville_ would probably get lost.

Professor McGonagall seemed to think so too, and decided he'd better go exploring with her.  
Ginny watched everyone pairing up and turned away to find a partner too - she ran right into Malfoy's chest.

"Okay, don't beg Weasley, it's embarrassing. I'll…partner you," came a lazy drawl, dripping with innuendo.

She was innocent, but she wasn't deaf – or stupid. "You _must_ be kidding," Ginny snapped. "Do you really think I want to spend the whole day with you?"

He leaned down and whispered in her ear. "Yes."

She forced away a shiver and took a step back. "I don't like you," she said truthfully.

Smirking, he readjusted his pack on his shoulder and examined her consideringly over the tops of his sunglasses. "No, you don't," he agreed readily enough. "But you aren't scared of me any more are you?" With that he started off toward what looked to be the town square, and Ginny, who upon looking around and seeing everyone else had already left, groaned loudly and stomped after him unwillingly.

* * *

They were sitting an hour later in a half empty deli on a corner of the square when Draco put down his glass of soda and grimaced. "Good God, Muggles dress even worse than you, Weasley," Draco said to Ginny in disgust. "Look at that one - big as a two room flat and dresses like it. No make-up either. What is it with women? _My_ mother wouldn't be caught dead dressed like that, with no hair and no make-up. Hasn't that woman got any self-respect? She at least ought to have some respect for the rest of us who have to bloody look at her."

Ginny looked down at the perfectly nice second hand denim jeans and white t-shirt and wool cardigan she wore, and then looked at him in dislike. She couldn't believe how shallow and cruel the boy was. He'd actually been acting like something close to human for a while – how could she have forgotten so easily who he really was? She just stared at him, until he finally noticed, and he stared back for a moment, before becoming visibly uncomfortable.

"What are you looking at?" He griped irritably, silvery eyes narrowing.

"I actually feel sorry for you," Ginny finally murmured, shaking her head. "Never thought that would happen in a million years."

"Feel sorry for me? Why? You ought to save your pity for yourself, Weasley. I sure as hell don't need it!" Angry and defensive, Draco stood up and stalked out of the Muggle restaurant, shouldering past a glowering Ron. Harry glared at him as he pushed past.

They sat down at Ginny's table and looked at her suspiciously. "You look odd," Ron said, eyeing a foil packet of ketchup with interest.

"Did Malfoy bug you?" Harry asked, his green eyes cutting threateningly. "We saw him come in here with you earlier, but Ron had to have look at the pet store across the way." Harry pinched a chip from Ginny's barely touched plate. She'd been starving, but had been oddly reluctant to eat anything in front of Malfoy – he'd made her incredibly nervous.

"No, no. He didn't bother me," Ginny lied, tearing and twisting a paper napkin in her hands. "He's just…ugh, he such a _pig_!"

"Finally figured that out, did you?" Ron said with amused sarcasm.

"Oh, do shut up, Ron. You could have told me he was in your Muggle Studies class. I thought he hated Muggles. Why ever would he be in that class?" She noticed Harry looking at her interestedly.

"What?"

"Sorry, I just - er - "

"You've got mustard on your cheek, Gin," Ron said nonchalantly around a huge mouthful of hamburger stolen from Ginny's plate.

Her cheeks burning bright red, Ginny dabbed at it hopelessly, and then Harry reached across, taking the napkin from her hand. He dipped a corner in a glass of water and put a warm finger on her chin, tilting her head to the side as he wiped at her cheek.

"There," he said softly, a friendly smile on his lips as he tapped her cheek, withdrawing his hand. "Pretty as ever."

Ginny's cheeks burned even hotter, her skin tingling wildly from his touch. "Thanks," she murmured huskily, her eyes gone soft, making Harry blink and Ron stop chewing and frown at her, nose twitching.

Habit, she thought ruefully. _Bad_ habit. Ginny mentally shook herself and stood, pulling her pack over her shoulder. "Where's Hermione, by the way?"

"She was with a Ravenclaw girl," Ron shrugged. "They were busy in the bookstore last I saw. Though it escapes me why anyone would want to read a book without moving pictures in it."

Dear, dear Ron," she sighed. "It escapes you why anyone would ever _want_ to read a book," Ginny said wryly.

"Hey, I read!" Ron complained immediately.

Ginny looked at him skeptically.

"Why should it seem so odd to you that I might like reading?" he demanded, offended.

"Because you use books as plates," Ginny said laughingly.

Ron scowled. Again.

"Listen, I'm going to go check out that Muggle magic shop across the way. I'll meet you back at the corner later, okay?" She looked down as she spoke and spied Malfoy's sunglasses resting on the table. She was tempted to be spiteful and leave them to be stolen, but they looked terribly expensive, and she'd feel guilty later. She swept them into her pack.

"Sure," her brother said, doubtfully eyeing the limp pickle that had come with her burger. "Be careful all right?"

"I don't know," Harry began doubtfully, "Malfoy – "

"I'll be fine, _Dad_." Ginny said teasingly, making Harry frown darkly. He hadn't liked it a bit, her calling him that. It made her feel good, oddly enough.

Ginny groaned as she walked into the dim, musky Magic Shop - it smelled like Madam Trelawney's classroom. It was hard not to be disappointed, but what had she been expecting, after all? What did Muggles really know about true magic?

A collection of fanciful wind chimes swung merrily by the door, propelled by a small electric fan. She watched the fan, intrigued; her Dad would have loved it. She then moved on, wandering around the small space, picking up odd bits and pieces here and there-she paused by a shelf filled with glass jars and harrumphed when she read the contents of one in particular. "Eye of Newt. If that's eye of newt I'm bloody rich."

"Disgusting, isn't it?"

Ginny had to bite back another groan. She turned to see Malfoy standing nearby, turning a 'crystal' ball in his hands.

"Are you following me around?" she demanded.

He looked at her in disbelief. "Right. As if I have nothing better to do."

Ginny sighed. He was still miffed at her. Oh well. It was no bother to her if he was. She roamed off in another direction, stopping before a bulletin board with several layers of colored paper messily attached to it. She decided she'd by no means ever get used to seeing the pictures and photos on the printed pages not move.

Reading the flyers kept her mind busy for several minutes, and she found one that stated there would be a free magic show held in the city park that very day.

Curious, Ginny took out her map and found that the location of said park was only two streets away. By the time she returned from it she would have to meet the others at the corner. She decided to spend the remaining smidgen of Muggle cash she had in her pocket on a small souvenir. Ginny pulled out the few coins and sighed. It would have to be a _very_ small souvenir.

She fingered a spectacular looking teardrop shaped crystal dangling from a silver ribbon on one of the racks, and sighed longingly. It was beautiful, but she didn't bother wasting her time looking at it too closely. She couldn't afford it.

She settled on buying a postcard with an unmoving picture of a Muggle dressed in a very bad wizard costume on it. He stood in front of the very store she was in - she figured her Mum and Dad would get a laugh out of it, the place being a Muggles idea of a Magic shop.

Malfoy was nowhere in sight as she exited the small shop. A part of her was disappointed.  
The public park was ridiculously easy to find, even though locating a seat on one of the many benches was not. There was a crush of noisy, sweaty, irate Muggles, and a seat was very near impossible to obtain.

Once settled, she pulled a half-bottle of water obtained in the deli from her pack and looked around, trying to observe the Muggles. It wasn't terribly interesting. They didn't act much different from Witches and Wizards. A screaming Muggle child ran past her feet, and the grumpy looking woman sitting next to her cursed and raced off after it. Poor woman.

Ginny took a drink and waved to a couple of other students from Hogwarts who'd also found their way into the park. They looked either bored or amused.

As a scarlet curtain pulled apart up on the small stage, a motion beside her distracted her. She looked over to see Malfoy settling onto the empty space the woman had vacated.

Ginny clenched her teeth and tried her best to ignore him. It was difficult when he was so close she could feel the muscles in his arm and thigh tensing against her own.

A black clothed Muggle appeared, a top hat and an odd looking black wand in hand. He had a long curling mustache, and wicked looking black eyebrows. He bowed to the audience and swept a silvery star-studded cloak off his shoulders.

With a graceful, practiced flourish, he tapped the hat with his 'wand' and then reached seemingly deeply inside, and pulled out a long eared white rabbit.

"Well-look at what I've found in here!" the would-be magician crowed loudly over the exclamations of his audience.

Malfoy snorted rudely from next to her. "That man couldn't find his ass with his hand," he commented loudly as well.

Ginny elbowed him, ignoring the hot glare of dislike he shot at her, and continued to watch with interest as the mustached man shot a bouquet of fake flowers from the tip of his wand, and then made a dove appear from thin air.

* * *

Draco fingered the ornate silver ring on his finger absently. This was all so boring. He looked down his nose at an ill-mannered little boy seated in front of him that kept turning around, making nasty faces, and picking his nose. Draco itched to pull out his wand and freeze the brat's face that way permanently. He would have if Ginny hadn't been present.

He watched several times as the Muggles parents let their children run free and cause havoc. The chaos was making the bloody travesty of a show run on forever. He was only present because of Ginny. He'd wanted to get her alone so he could explain to her about the Pansy-snogging incident. The girl had been like a leech the other night, and just when he'd thought he'd finally gotten her off his back, she'd grabbed him and almost taken his lips off! The annoyance he felt at the girl's actions was only exacerbated by the profusion of Muggles surrounding him.

Finally his impatient nature could take it no more and he muttered to Ginny, "What do these people think this place is - a bloody day care nursery? You'd think they'd have the decency to leave the little scabbers at home so a body could think for five minutes-really, I think things could be got done much more quickly around here if – "

Ginny again elbowed him sharply.

"Ow!" He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, annoyed and irate.. "What?"

"Be nice!" she hissed threateningly.

"I don't have to be nice, I'm a Malfoy," he said imperiously, looking down his patrician nose at her.  
"You're such a crab."

"Am not," he said childishly. He thought for a minute, and then a mischievous note came into his cool voice. "Was that an invitation to pinch you?"

"What? No!" Ginny frowned at him.

"You're the one who accused me of being a crab, and crabs have got pincers haven't they?" He pinched his thumb and forefingers together threateningly.

"Don't you dare!"

"Too late!" When no one was looking, Draco reached down between their thighs, which touched as they were so squeezed together, and gave her a smart pinch on her rear.

Ginny jumped, yelping despite herself, which caused everyone to turn his or her attention to her. Flame cheeked, Ginny gave an apologetic smile and then sent Draco a scathing look that should have made him cower. Of course he didn't.

Draco sat with his arms crossed behind his head, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle, looking supremely smug.

"You are so going to pay for that," she whispered to him meanly. "You unbelievable prat – "

"Pay?" he said loudly, looking stern and self-righteous suddenly. "Now Miss Weasley I really don't think that's appropriate behavior for - _oof_!"

Ginny socked him one in the gut, standing up abruptly and walking off - she didn't care if there wasn't any other seat in the place, or if she'd have to stand for the next hour - there was no way she was ever getting within five feet of Draco Malfoy _ever_ again!

* * *

Draco walked alongside Ginny as they slowly made their way out of the park, savoring the double-chocolate-chip-mint-fudge-swirl ice cream cone - the day had been hot, almost sweltering, insane weather for late October. It had taken the better part of the last hour to get Ginny to talk to him again. He'd had to resort to using his puppy-dog expression to make her feel sorry for him, but it had worked.

He noticed Ginny looking at him with a curious frown and he raised a brow. "What is it?"

She shook her head. "Sorry, I didn't mean to stare. It's just that – "

"Well, what is it?" He sniped impatiently.

"Well, I don't know. It's just weird, seeing you eat that."

Taken aback he looked at the half eaten sugar cone and scowled. "What do you mean? You think it's weird to see me eat?"

"I - its just…I mean, you are a Slytherin." She looked at his steadily darkening face and hastened to explain. "You know, everyone knows most of the students in Slytherin house turn out to be dark wizards, or…or Death Eaters." She cleared her throat. "It's just odd seeing you eat something sweet and fluffy like ice cream. The flavor too. Don't take offense, but when a person thinks of a flavor a Slytherin might like, they tend to think of flavors like, oh, I don't know – Chocolate-covered Spider Sundae or Pralines and Newts, o-or Beetle Banana Split or something."

Draco choked, and then surprised her by laughing out loud.

Ginny grinned at his reaction, mischievously wriggling her fingers. "Just think - they'd go squirming down your throat…mmm, Flubberworm-Fudge Ripple – "

Draco dumped the rest of his cone into a trash bin with a grimace, groaning. "Aww, that's positively nasty, stop it!"

Ginny chuckled, finishing off her own treat with relish. "Wow, I hate to admit it, but this Muggle ice cream is better even than Mum's homemade."

Draco had to bite back a well-aimed, habitually malicious remark when she said that, and stopped at a green park bench, collapsing on it and looking at the foaming fountain across from them enviously. He pulled off his long sleeved shirt, throwing it over his pack. He looked up at her, his eyes widening slightly as he realized how much the Muggle clothing outlined her body, usually hidden beneath the plain black school robes.

The little Weasley had a delectable looking backside. His gaze drifted down and he noticed she had a lovely pair of nice, trim thighs as well. He wished she'd take off the cardigan so he could get a closer look at her chest…

"It's hot," he muttered, trying desperately to regain control over his abominably misbehaving body.

"Yes, it is." Ginny collapsed next to him, thinking fleetingly of the air-conditioned restaurant she'd been in earlier.

She fanned herself, trying not to notice that she had noticed the way the beads of sweat ran from his nape down his neck. She covertly studied him, taking in the pale white skin, the equally pale silver of his smoothed back hair, and the hint of color in his cruelly shaped lips that contrasted with everything else. The shirt and ripped denims he wore looked very good on him. Yet the ragged clothes didn't quite suit him somehow, she decided. Draco Malfoy was a full-blooded wizard of ancient lineage, and everything about him screamed the fact.

"Do you approve?" A deep, snobby voice asked suddenly, full of dry humor.

"Excuse me?" Ginny frowned at Draco, lost in thought.

"Come on, Weasley, you were practically eating me with your eyes a minute ago," he said vainly, standing and shoving his hands in his pockets.

Ginny denied this hotly.

"You were too," Draco insisted, looking down his haughty nose at her from his superior height. "Admit it, you were eyeing me up."

"Why you spoilt, pompous brat!" Ginny stood up, poking him hard in the gut with her finger. "For your information, not that it's any of your business, I was thinking about Harry!" The lie slid from her lips too easily, and she regretted it as soon as she said it, seeing Draco's eyes go cold enough to freeze blood.

Draco looked at her, eyes hooded and his face expressionless. "Potter, huh? Still chasing him about? I thought you might have been smart enough to outgrow that by now. He's not as perfect as everyone thinks, you know." He leaned forward suddenly, whispering in a chilling, evil way into her ear, "He's not invincible either."

Ginny jerked away from him, hating herself for having spent half the afternoon with him, but mostly hating herself for the thrill of pleasure that raced down her spine when he'd breathed into her ear.

"Get away from me," she hissed angrily, her lips trembling. "I hope I never have to see you again!"

Draco's sharp, handsome features smirked as he bowed mockingly at the waist. "Impossible. You're a Weasley."

That remark could mean a thousand different things, all of them insulting. "Bite me."

"My, aren't we witty," he drawled yawningly, crossing his arms in that smug way of his he'd had since their childhood.

Ginny stood and turned before he saw her eyes welling up with angry tears and headed back out of the park, intent on ignoring him for the next millennia! She must have been going completely nutters to be thinking of him in any other way besides a loathing one.

* * *

TBC

_(Thanks for reading!)_


	5. Chapter Five 'All' Boys That Age?

**The Dragon Rebels**

**Author:** Lee Velviet

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing - you know who all this stuff belongs to-J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., etc.

(**A/N:** For anyone who wonders, Jarvey's are one of the creatures from one of J.K.'s two companion type books called Fantastic Beasts & Where To Find Them, and all the Quidditch terms you might see are from the other book, Quidditch Through The Ages. I hope you enjoy the chapter!- Lee )

**Chapter Five -** _All_ Boys That Age?

* * *

Though their group had already gone on, Ginny arrived at the appointed corner to see that Harry and Ron had stayed behind to walk back with her. 

Truthfully, Ginny was grateful - she had realized on the walk back from the park that she really couldn't trust herself around Draco Malfoy. One minute she was determined to stay as far away from him as possible, and the next she was laughing at something he said and thinking he was really a halfway decent person.

_Wrong_!

Ginny greeted Harry and Ron with a breathless "Hi," and stood around with the rest of McGonagall's group to wait for the last stragglers. A warm breeze blew over her flushed cheeks and she lifted her hair off of her neck, closing her eyes and sighing as the air-cooled the hot damp skin at her nape.

It still wasn't cool enough. The walk back had made her feel even warmer. She opened her eyes, and shrugged off her pack to rest it upright between her feet. She unbuttoned the cardigan, peeled it off, and balled it up to stuff away. She bent over to drag her pack back onto her shoulder, straightened up, and looked directly into Harry's bright green eyes.

Ginny frowned as she realized he was staring at her, and then he blinked, and cleared his throat, and turned away to talk to her extremely bored looking brother.

She didn't have much of a chance to wonder about Harry, because Malfoy decided to show up about then, and he smirked at her as he walked right between her and Harry and Ron.

Hermione rushed up right after him. "Thank God! I thought that maybe you might have already left! I totally lost track of the time. That bookstore was terribly interesting - it was huge!"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Leave it up to you to lose track of time in a bookstore – that's probably the only place you ever lose track of time."

Hermione's relieved expression fell, and she glared at him. She opened her mouth as if to say something cutting, and then, her whole face changed as she smiled. "Ron, if you wanted to spend some time with me today, you should have just said so."

Ginny felt her mouth fall open and then she laughed at the look on her brother's face.

Hermione winked at Ginny and walked away to speak with Professor McGonagall.

Ron scowled fiercely after Hermione and his chin jutted out as he crossed his arms.

"Awww, _Ron and Hermione, sitting in a tree _– "

"Shut up, Ginny," Ron mumbled, the tips of his ears turning dark red.

Finally it was time to leave - and Ginny was more than ready to go. The Muggle city had been interesting, but it was like a pale imitation of the world she'd grown up in, and she felt sorry for the people who lived in it - they had no magic in their lives.

She watched Harry's back as they walked back along the bridge leading out of the city, and felt a pang at the thought of how, every summer, he had to return to his sour Aunt and Uncle, and didn't have a speck of magic to go on for _weeks_.

Ginny sighed and lifted her heavy hair off of her neck again – she'd be happy to get back to Hogwarts again.

She had to pause for a few moments later on, just before they approached the clearing, to stop and tie up her shoe.

* * *

Draco walked along behind Ginny, wondering when his plans had gone so awry. 

Ginny seemed completely immune to his charms, and that had certainly never happened before.  
He saw her stop ahead of him and his eyes widened when she bent over to tie her shoe - she'd taken off the cardigan, and he now had an unimpaired view of her perfectly rounded rear.

An evil smile curled his lips as he realized they were quite alone…

* * *

Ginny's eyes flew wide open and she straightened up quickly, standing stiffly as something pressed against her hips.

A soft murmur brushed the back of her neck as hands settled on her waist. "Miss me, Ginny?"

She gasped and tugged his hands away, trying not to stumble as she whirled to face him, hands warding him off.

"Stay away from me, Malfoy! I don't want anything to do with you."

His eyes flashed under the shield of his white blond hair and he watched her in a way that made her wish she hadn't removed her cardigan.

"Well…what if I want to 'do' something _with_ you?"

Ginny gulped and turned away to catch up with the others.

"That's it, Ginny, run away. You're getting awfully good at that," he drawled from behind her in his deceptively silky voice.

She stopped in her tracks and gritted her teeth. She could feel his eyes burning into the space between her shoulder blades and she searched her mind, desperate for something to say, some cutting remark that would shut him up once and for all-but there was nothing. Her mind had gone completely blank.

She heard the blanket of fall leaves crush underfoot as he approached her, and she turned reluctantly to face him.

"I believe you've got something of mine," stated Malfoy quietly.

Ginny bit her bottom lip, inadvertently drawing his gaze to her lips. "W- what is that?"

His hand rose, and she flinched, making him laugh slightly as he feathered his fingertips along the curve of her jaw line.

"My sunglasses?"

Ginny blinked slowly, looking at him blankly. His _what_?

"Your – OH!" She shook her head and shrugged her pack off of her shoulders. "Yes, you forgot them, earlier." She dug around inside for a moment and then produced the heavy silver rimmed glasses with a sigh. She dropped them into his hand with haste and yanked the strap back over her arm.

"Thanks."

"I'll never get used to hearing you say that," Ginny muttered wonderingly.

She watched as he slid the sunglasses back on and tucked a hand into one of the back pockets of his jeans.

"We're alone, you know."

She tried to ignore him as she turned away.

"Do you want to study me with your hands as thoroughly as you did with your eyes back there?"

Ginny made a noise of outrage and whirled on him. "You have the manners of a-a Jarvey!"

"Really? I'll admit, I am trying to lower myself a bit…but I haven't quite reached that level yet, have I?" He seemed very amused.

She took a step forward with the intention of smacking him, and stepped right into a hole-Ginny ended up facedown on the leave-covered ground in front of him.

Growling, Ginny pushed herself up on her elbows and looked up at him as he crouched down before her.

"Women do sometimes fall to their knees before me, but not while trying to strangle me," said Malfoy gloatingly.

"You are so crude! You-you ferret!" She stared at his boots and ground her teeth. She started to push herself up and caught his eyes again.

"Ill-bred brat," Malfoy shot back, his silvery eyes burning as he looked at her over the sunglasses. "You could at least look at me when you try to insult me. Makes more impact."

"You would know, wouldn't you?" Ginny sat up and started dragging leaves out of her hair, and off of her shirt. "You're going to drive me to insanity before the year is out, you know that? My parents will have to visit me in St. Mungo's. Can't you stop bugging me?"

"I beg your pardon, but it's far too much fun for me to not 'bug' you. You make it so easy, after all." He took her hand and stood, pulling her up with him. "What can I say? I think I've developed a taste for girls with freckles."

Ginny snatched her hand away. "You won't be 'tasting' anything of mine!" She realized what she'd said and clapped a hand over her mouth before turning and hurrying away, her cheeks blood red.

* * *

Draco regretfully watched the girl go and sighed, clamping down on the emotions stirring inside of him. He wasn't used to feeling so much - and he had a tendency to do that around her.

Her shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and curled the left one around an unfamiliar object.

He pulled the thing from his pocket and frowned as it dangled from its ribbon, catching the late afternoon sunlight. It was that damn crystal pendant he'd felt so compelled to buy back in that worthless Muggle store. He'd seen Ginny looking at it longingly before she'd left, and had bought it without thinking, and stuffed it carelessly in his pocket.

Draco squinted at the crystal, and then blinked incredulously. He pulled off the sunglasses, and brought the teardrop-shaped crystal closer to his eyes.

It was there all right.

He snorted and stuck the pendant back into his pocket. It figured.

Draco started after her to meet the others at the clearing, and guessed Ginny must not have noticed the tiny white dragon design etched into the back of the crystal. He wondered if she'd have really wanted it as badly if she had.

* * *

"Finally - you kept us waiting long enough," Ron groused as Ginny walked into the clearing.

"Oh, be quiet, Ron - I had to stop and tie my shoe."

Of course, while the group's attention was on her, Malfoy had to come striding up after her, looking incredibly smug.

Ron's jaw dropped and Harry frowned.

Ginny groaned and moved over to see if she could get McGonagall moving.

Hermione grinned and looked at Harry speculatively. "How green your eyes are, Harry."

He barely glanced at her. "My eyes have always been green, Hermione."

"I know," she said placatingly and turned away, murmuring something about green-eyed monsters and jealousy.

Ron sputtered something garbled finally, and moved over to start questioning Ginny.

* * *

Ginny had never been so happy to see Hogwarts again in her entire life - she managed to evade Ron as they arrived back in the courtyard, and deftly moved into the castle where dinner was just beginning.

She looked into the great hall longingly, and sighed. Did she really feel hungry enough to endure Malfoy staring at her across the tables?

Unfortunately, yes.

She went up to the dorms to freshen up and change into her school robes, and then went back down to dinner.

She took a seat with Hermione and leaned her chin on her hand tiredly.

Hermione greeted her and paused in her eating to look at her closely. "So?"

"So-what?"

"What happened with you and Malfoy?"

Ginny sat up stiffly and laid her palms flat on the table. "Nothing! He insulted me, I insulted him, and that was that! Honestly, you people aren't happy unless there's something appalling afoot to gossip about!"

Hermione only shrugged. "Well, it does keep life interesting."

Grabbing her fork, Ginny started eating. She barely tasted the food - she just wanted to eat enough to ease the gnawing in her tummy, and go up to bed.

The older girl sighed and put her hand on her arm. "Ginny, I think he really likes you."

"Yes, I know, but you don't know _why_ he likes me." Ginny took a drink and stared into her goblet somberly. "All he's interested in is adding me to his… his _harem_."

Hermione choked and then cleared her throat. "Ginny! How do you even know what a harem is?"

"Please, I do read, you know. Besides, I heard Lavender and another girl giggling about it one night. It sounds just like something a Malfoy would have." Ginny stuck out her tongue.

"Er-well, he's a seventeen-year old boy, Ginny. I mean, 'all' boys that age are, well – 'that' is practically all they think about!"

Ginny very deliberately looked over at her brother and Harry. "_All_ boys that age?"

Ron and Harry looked over at them and chose that moment to grin. The other girl blushed and gave Ginny a weak reprimanding look.

"My point is, Ginny, that you'd be good for Malfoy. Maybe you could, I don't know - straighten him up a bit? Be a good influence on him?"

"Right, _me_ change Malfoy? My own mum couldn't make Draco Malfoy behave, and she's a bloody tyrant sometimes! Besides, what makes you think I would ever want anything to do with Draco?"  
"Maybe it's because you seem to keep slipping and calling him Draco instead of Malfoy?"

"Oh, leave me alone!" Ginny put down her fork, wiped her mouth, and stood up. "I'm going to bed!"

Hermione stood with her. "I think I'll go with you."

They were on the stairs before Hermione spoke again. "All right, Ginny. I'm sorry I stuck my nose in it, but I have to say it!" She paused on the steps and looked at Ginny seriously. "I think he's really falling in love with you."

"Oh, stop it! Since when have you become an expert on love anyway? You're only a year older."  
"I really do, Ginny. He may not know it, but – "

"Hermione, he doesn't love me. He's Draay-co Maal-foy." Ginny drew his name out slowly, trying to make her friend understand.

"I know very well who he is, thanks," Hermione snapped. "I think we've well established his identity."

"I'm a Weasley! He hates us!"

"He was taught to hate, Ginny - you still caught his interest, didn't you?"

"I-I guess."

"How do you feel about him?"

"He drives me bonkers!"

"Well, so does Ron, with me, and I love him."

"That doesn't prove anything. You'd love Ron even if he didn't drive you bonkers."

"True, but you forget, I fell in love with him before I even really knew him - and now I do, and I love him even more. He has his quirks, but you have to take the good with the bad, Ginny."

"The good with the bad? There's nothing good about Draco!" Ginny started up the steps again at a fast pace. "I mean, it took you years to fall in love with Ron, and he's a decent sort - Draco Malfoy can't even 'act' like a decent person! He doesn't have 'quirks', he has _fangs_!"

* * *

Draco sat on the edge of his bed the next morning, listening to his dorm mates snore and talk in their sleep. It was early, too early to be awake, and yet he was. He was sitting there, watching the gray light of dawn creep through the small barred window of the room, and then he glanced down at the crystal in his hand.

It was just a crystal - there wasn't anything magical about it, mostly because the muggles who'd handled it hadn't really believed in magic. But there was something about having it in his hand and knowing Ginny had touched it that made him hang on to it when he should have just lobbed it.

Draco pushed the longish, sleep-tousled tangle of his hair behind his ear and continued to study it. He wondered if he should bother giving it to her. He'd never have given anyone anything - unless it was a hard time. She probably wouldn't take it anyway. She wouldn't take anything from a Malfoy. Her father had probably told her he was the devil himself. He shrugged. Well, the man wouldn't be that far off, he supposed.

Draco eyed the tiny hand etched dragon one last time before deciding he was being an idiot and slid the pendant on it's silky ribbon under his pillow. He lay back on it, and closed his eyes and told himself he she be thinking of new ways to insult her, not laying awake half the night agonizing over what she thought of him.

He didn't really care what she thought of him. That wasn't what he was interested in her for.

* * *

Unbeknownst to Draco, Ginny was laying awake in her bed too.

She was thinking about Hermione's claim that Dra - er, Malfoy _liked_ her. No, that he _loved_ her. Hmmph!

Really, what she needed to do was just stay as far away from him as possible.

She just wasn't sure she really wanted to.

Ginny rolled onto her side and pulled her blanket over her head. It was what she'd always done, when something was bothering her, and she wanted to hide away from the world.

All that was missing from her childhood was Ron coming in and dragging the blankets off her head, and telling her to stop feeling sorry for herself, and then tickling her until she was her usual talkative self.

Ginny smiled at the memories, and then groaned as she remembered Malfoy.

_Maybe you're falling in love with him,_ a voice said inside her head.

"No way. There isn't anything there _to_ love," she answered it moodily.

_He's very good looking._

"He's _very_ shallow!"

_Come on - you know you like him - he can be charming._

"Charming? There isn't anything charming about him! He's an evil rat - or rather, an evil ferret. He's a mean, selfish, irritating grump."

_Precisely. He just needs someone to love him - look at his parents. Do you really think they have ever shown him love?_

"Leave me alone. I need sleep," Ginny griped unhappily.

_You like him - you just won't admit it,_ the voice whispered tauntingly.

"Yes, but he doesn't like me!"

_He obviously likes you enough to want to -_

"Stop! You're a disgrace to the family name, Ginny Weasley," she moaned into her pillow.

A pillow was flung at her head. "Shut up Ginny! You're talking in your sleep. The sane people are trying to rest, here!"

_See what you did?_

_

* * *

_

As a result of talking to herself all night long, Ginny was dragging by the time she hauled herself and her Firebolt out onto the pitch after school for Quidditch practice.

"Hi, Ginny," called Molly Colerain from nearby, snapping her gum enthusiastically.

Ginny waved, yawning, and rubbed her eyes with the back of her gloved hand. She tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear and tried to shake herself awake.

Curtis ran up, chattering excitedly, and Ginny had to put her hands on his shoulders and shake him to make him slow down. "Sorry-er, say that again?"

"Look what I got for my birthday from my parents!" He held up a Firebolt, an exact of hers, and Ginny nodded, impressed.

"That's great, Curtis, but I thought your parents didn't really like the idea of you playing Quidditch. They got you a broom?"

The boy looked at her somewhat guiltily, and then grinned. "Well-no. They're busy and very well off, so sent me the money and told me to use it on whatever I wanted."

Ginny started laughing, but it was interrupted by a huge yawn.

She didn't realize how badly her sleeplessness had affected her skills until Harry called it a day and then Ron shook his head at her back on the ground.

"Gin, I hate to say it, but today you have all the Chaser skills of a deranged Howler monkey," the tall, red-haired boy said angrily. "Did you know you missed 'five' passes? _Five_! And your reverse pass - that was a bloody nightmare - your aim was for crap, and you almost hit _Harry_ in the head!"

Ginny groaned and leaned on her broomstick. "Oh, leave me alone, Ron - I didn't get any sleep last night! What do you want from me - blood?"

"It'd be easier to get from you than a decent performance during practice today," Ron mumbled.

"I'm not going to mention the way you massacred that Hawkeshead Attack Formation - Curtis and Molly are still dizzy – "

"I-GET-THE-POINT!" Ginny yelled in frustration, her head pounding.

Ron threw his hands up and stalked off.

"You aren't the bloody captain, you bossy, pushy little git!" Ginny shouted after him for good measure.

"Yeah? Well you better sort out your priorities, woman! We've got a game against Ravenclaw in two weeks!" Ron shouted back over his shoulder.

"I'll show you priorities, you contrary grouch! I'll stick them right up your – "

"Ginny!"

Ginny looked over angrily to see Hermione waiting a few yards away, looking at her in disbelief.

"I was going to say, 'sleeve'," she muttered defiantly as she hauled herself over to her friend.

"What on earth was that all about?" Hermione asked as Ginny almost dragged the tail of her beloved Firebolt on the ground.

"It was Ron being a pain in my ass," Ginny sighed, and grimaced as her stomach growled loudly - she was reminded she hadn't eaten breakfast.

"I can't believe you - this thing with Malfoy is really getting to you, isn't it? I don't think I've ever seen you act so…so…"

"Tired? Violent? Cranky?"

"Actually, I was going to say, _disturbed_."

"Are you telling me I don't have a reason to be?" Ginny turned on Hermione threateningly, her scarlet robes swishing.

"Take deep breaths, Ginny, it'll be all right."

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I just need to sleep." Ginny dragged her broom up over her shoulder and started walking after the rest of the team.

"I understand, it's all right."

"No, it's really not. I need to just drop this whole thing, but something won't let me and it's driving me up the wall!"

"Okay, then, it's simple! You know what to do, don't you?"

"Talk to Drac – er - _Malfoy_?" Ginny looked over at Hermione and winced. "Do I have to?"

"No, but you may want to if you want your life to go back to some kind of normalness."

"What if it doesn't?"

Hermione shook her head. "We'll reserve you some nice rooms at St. Mungo's?"

"Very funny," Ginny snapped as they walked across the pitch to towards the castle.

"Uh, Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think you can reserve one with a queen-size bed?"

* * *

TBC 

(A/N: Thanks for the reviews, you guys - they are very much appreciated! I hope the story keeps your interest, and that you enjoyed this chapter. Let me know what you think! - Lee)


	6. Chapter Six Confession

**The Dragon Rebels**

**Author:** Lee Velviet

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

"You know, you don't look half bad all sweaty and grimy in those Quidditch robes…" 

Ginny paused tiredly in the act of pulling open a glass paned door that led into the castle through a side entrance. She caught her own reflection momentarily in one clear pane before she turned to face the speaker. Dirt streaked across one cheekbone, and her hair was in a wild tangle from the wind – she looked just like she always did after a Quidditch practice – so why did it bother her so bad suddenly, for 'him' to see her that way?

She took a deep breath, motioned to Hermione through the glass door to go without her, and turned to face Draco. Er…Malfoy.

He was wearing his own silver and green practice robes, which were impeccably, clean, of course…  
Her mouth actually started watering as she stared at him standing there against the background of the sunset. Her eyes moved over him, every word she'd been going to say draining right out of her head.  
She couldn't make herself open her mouth. Ginny growled inwardly. So he was good – looking. So what? So were a lot of other boys at Hogwarts.

None of them compared to him, though.

She wanted to strangle herself. Why was she staring at him? It wasn't as if she hadn't already memorized every detail about him…except for the parts she couldn't see, of course…

Ginny choked at that thought and burst out coughing as her eyes watered.

Draco's blonde brows rose loftily above his pale eyes.

"S-swallowed wrong," Ginny gasped, pounding her chest – only to roll her eyes and shake her head in the midst of her coughing spasm as Draco's lips twisted.

"I didn't mean it that way and you know it," she scowled up at him after she'd calmed herself.

"I didn't say a word."

"You're incredibly annoying."

"Look at me when you're lying."

"I'm not lying!" Ginny growled, and then she took a deep breath and calmed herself. She was not this ill tempered, touchy person. She'd only started acting this way because of Malfoy. It was entirely his fault! "I do not lie."

Ginny tightened her hand around the handle of her Firebolt and sighed. It should have been illegal for the boy to look that good in his Quidditch robes. She stared at the laces on the front of his robes, and the silver Slytherin crest just to the left of them, searching for something – anything - to say.

"Do you want to meet me in the library later?" He surprised her by asking completely out of the blue.  
Ginny rubbed at the dirt on her cheek absently as she considered her choices. She could meet him there, talk things out with him and maybe even get her homework out of the way…of course, if they ended up having a disagreement, which they invariably tended to do, she'd end up getting thrown out of the library, because she'd undoubtedly raise her voice…

"I really don't think that's a good idea…when is your practice over?"

"Whenever I say it's over," said Draco self-importantly. "I am the captain you know."

Ginny rolled her eyes again. The conceit of the boy!

She turned to the door. "Just meet me back out here after your practice – I have to talk to you – and I do mean talk." She gave him a hard look over her shoulder and disappeared inside.

Draco watched Ginny walk away with an arched brow, wondering if he should be proud of his work – she was clearly at the end of her tether. He'd seen that look a hundred times before in the eyes of other females who'd warranted his attention – usually it meant he was about to get what he wanted.

It'd be very easy to take advantage of the girl. She was so confused he could tell her he loved her, and she'd almost be stupid enough to believe it…

Draco shouldered his broom, and moved away down the path with a self–satisfied smirk.

* * *

An hour and a half later, Draco returned from his practice to find Ginny sitting on the steps outside the entrance.

She had changed her clothes, and her skin was freshly scrubbed, a shade of lustrous pale pink that appealed to him entirely too much for his own comfort.

She looked up at him through her lashes as he approached, and pushed a slightly damp, twisted strand of her red hair out of her eyes.

"How was your practice?" she asked softly.

Before he could answer, the rest of his team came barreling up behind him, and Ginny rolled her eyes and stood up, moving aside and allowing the grumbling, ill-tempered Slytherins to pass by.

Draco waited until the surly lot had passed through the door before answering.

"Well, if having your teeth pulled out one by one by a sadistic garden gnome in possession of a rusty pair of pliers is your idea of a good time, then it went absolutely smashingly."

He watched her force back a smile. She was nervous about something, he could tell…

"What did you want to talk to me about?"

Small, straight white teeth worried at her full lower lip before she sighed and pushed her fingers through her hair, absently working tangles out of the silky, damp tousled curls.

"I know this sounds crazy…and I know you're probably going to laugh…"

"What is it?" He had to dig his fingernails into his palm to keep a triumphant, mocking sneer from breaking out on his lips.

"I think I – well, you see…oh, god, I can't say it." Ginny covered her face with her hands and shook her head. "You're Draco Malfoy! _What_ am I thinking?"

Draco frowned, and took a step forward, leaning his broom against the castle wall before pulling her hands away from her face. "Ginny, are you trying to tell me you…like me?"

"Hermione said I should talk to you that it might help me get things off my chest – but I can't 'talk' to you! All we ever do is end up arguing! And then I get all angry, and I can't stop thinking about it, and everything else in my life gets thrown into disorder –"

"Well, we won't talk, then," he snapped, impatiently, and took her face in his hands.

She looked up at him with wide brown eyes a moment before he lowered his head and kissed her.  
Draco had obviously done a 'lot' of kissing…

Ginny's eyelids fluttered shut as the sensation of his skilled lips moving on hers made her positively weak.

She sighed, and he groaned, lowering his hands from her face to her shoulders, which he gripped tightly.

Something moved over her in a huge, flowing wave, something that managed to make her feel cold and hot at the same time, something otherwise indescribable that took her breath away and made her heart thud achingly in her chest…

His tongue moved against her lips, and she found herself smiling slightly at the tickling sensation – he used the motion to slip his tongue inside her slightly parted lips, and she fell against him as it began to slowly stroke against her own.

The kiss went on, and on, until he finally moved his lips from hers to trail along her jaw and then down her neck, beneath the fall of her slightly damp hair.

Ginny kept her eyes closed, oblivious to anything but his touch, and his scent…she rubbed her cheek against the smooth sleekness of his wind ruffled hair as he drew her skin between his teeth, gently nipping at her – he smelled sweetly of the cool night air, and something else, that was entirely Draco.

"I love you," she murmured confessingly against his ear, barely aware of what she was saying…

Draco smiled victoriously against her skin, moving one hand low over her hip…

But she pulled back from him suddenly, her softly freckled face smiling up at him ruefully.

"Well…I suppose you're going to gloat, now."

"Well, actually…"

Ginny rolled her eyes and turned away from him.

He caught her arm and pulled her back against him, grinning down at her charmingly. "I was only kidding, Gin…you have no idea how much this means to me."

"Really?"

"Really…" he lowered his head and kissed her again, closing his eyes too late to hide the gleam of satisfaction that he knew was shining there.

She pushed away from him after a moment, and shook her head, her eyes glittering. She looked unbearably dissapointed.

"I should have known better than to think I could ever talk to you, much less trust you…I'm not one of your stupid, easily impressed girls, you know…"

Draco clenched his teeth and watched the stubborn brat march away, her freckled little nose in the air, her denim clad bottom swaying invitingly.

He grabbed up his broom with a frustrated snarl, and made his way down to the dungeons to take a much needed cold shower.

* * *

Later, after the longest shower he'd ever taken in his entire life, Draco returned to his common room to learn that his parents were demanding to speak with him, and that of course, just made his day complete.

Rolling his eyes boredly, Draco sat sprawled in a chair before the fire in the Slytherin common room, listening to his parents rant, feeling restless and impatient. It was rather hard to take anything they said seriously, seeing as their disembodied heads were floating in the fireplace.

He listened to the rain outside rushing against the single small window in the common room and tapped his fingertips with irritation on the chair arm.

"Where did I go wrong? My son, a Malfoy, associating with a common Weasley?"

"Draco, what were you thinking? Have you looked at yourself lately? Exactly what are you wearing?"

"- won't stand for it, by Merlin!"

"- disgrace -"

"- forbid it!"

"- disown –"

He listened to the threats with half an ear, his contempt obvious, until he heard his  
father's voice rise steeply.

"Are you paying attention to me, boy?"

"You'd better listen to him, dear – you remember what happened to poor Grandmamma," his mother said coldly, and he watched her disembodied head turn and shoot his father's a knowing, malicious look.

"How many times do I have to bloody tell you, Narcissa, she was already bloody well dead when I got there!" his father roared angrily.

Draco sighed roughly, annoyed.

"Well, you heard me, Draco, dearest – think well on what I've said…and for my sake, obtain a decent hair cut, I can barely see your eyes," his lovely mother stated this coldly, and quickly disappeared.

He looked at his father's head floating in the fireplace and smirked slightly.

"Well, old man, I see she still hasn't forgiven you for eviscerating Grandmamma Celia at Christmas last year…not that the crusty old witch didn't deserve a bit of it. What did she call you again? Oh, now I remember – wasn't it 'a wretched, repugnant, vile toad of an excuse for a man'?"

"If you don't learn to temper that tongue of yours and speak to me with some bloody respect, I'll have your insolent mouth sewn shut with a blunt needle, you understand me? After all I've done for you…this is the thanks I receive. This _idiocy_ of yours has gone far enough – drop the girl – or I'll see to dropping her for you – I believe you can comprehend? You'll do as I tell you!"

Draco sneered at the fireplace as Lucius's head dissolved, and got up from his chair to prowl the empty common room angrily.

"I'll do as you say, Father," he muttered furiously, and narrowing his eyes determinedly, he stalked into his dorm and retrieved the crystal dragon pendant from its nest of silk beneath his pillow, clenching it in his fist. "When hell freezes over..."

Draco allowed an unpleasant smile to curl along his lips as he paused before the mirror and took in his own fierce countenance.

"Oh, you've been very bad…but you look very good," the mirror purred.

He smirked and pushed his hair out of his eyes. It was time to truly turn on the Malfoy charm…and win Ginny over.

"Follow this path at your own peril, young master," whispered the mirror in a soft, seductive voice.

Draco smirked and met his own stormy gray eyes in the mirror. "I'm the one who makes the paths, not the one who follows them."

He pulled a black cloak on over his clothes and left the dungeons with a confidant swagger.

* * *

Ginny yawned behind her hand and blinked down at her parchment with tired eyes.

Her head rested in the crook of her arm, as she scrawled out a report for her Transfigurations class with a reluctant hand.

She was playing with the idea of putting off finishing the report until the next morning, and just skipping breakfast, so she could get some sleep, when a shape moved out of the shadows surrounding her table in the silent library.

"I thought I'd find you here," came a familiar voice from behind her.

Ginny felt her heart jump and took a deep breath, setting her feather quill aside with exaggerated care.

"I have the feeling you'd find me even if I were hiding on the other side of the earth," she answered calmly, dusting her parchment and rolling it up.

"Were you hiding?"

"No," Ginny said quickly, her eyes thinning to suspicious slits. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"I had something to give you."

Suddenly feeling so nervous that her hands trembled, Ginny tucked them under her thighs and stared down at the table.

"I don't think I want anything the great Draco Malfoy is actually 'willing' to give away," she muttered lowly.

"It's a gift…and I'll be terribly insulted if you don't accept it."

"I can't take anything from you," she said, embarrassed.

"Don't worry – it's not cursed or anything," murmured Draco warmly near her ear, and she closed her eyes as his hands moved the heavy fall of her hair over one shoulder, exposing the sensitive nape of her neck. Her skin prickled as something cool and smooth slithered across it, and she tensed until she felt him step away from her.

Ginny frowned, and felt her throat – a slender satin ribbon now encircled it, and she looked down as her fingertips encountered a heavy pendant.

Lightning flashed outside the windows, and she felt an unwilling smile part her lips as she saw the teardrop shaped crystal resting on her fingertips.

"You saw me looking at this."

"Yes…but I wasn't going to give it to you," he said, sounding brutally honest. "I just wanted it because you touched it."

Ginny swallowed and ran a finger over the sparkling facets. She didn't know what to think.

"No matter what happens between us, Ginny…I hope you'll keep it, just to remember me by."

"You're laying it on a bit thick, don't you think?" she managed to choke out dryly.

There was no answer, and Ginny twisted around to see the tail of his dark cloak disappear around a bookcase as he silently left.

She looked back at the pendant, and caught herself mid–sigh as she noticed the tiny etching on it that she'd missed in the shop.

The tiny white dragon felt rough beneath her fingertip as she touched it, hardly believing it was there.  
It was really insane, the things he was making her feel…he was completely, unrepentantly wicked…and here she was, stupidly, madly in love with him.

She pressed the crystal in her fist to her cheek and rested her head on the table, feeling unutterably weary.

* * *

TBC 


	7. Chapter Seven The Reluctant Dragon

**The Dragon Rebels**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

(**A/N:** Okay, first off – so sorry about the delay – second, there is a bit O' language in this chapter, which my Mom would have called vulgar and offensive, but I'm a big girl now, and can use all the 'vulgar and offensive' words I want. Heh, heh. Anyway, you've been warned m'dears. -)

**Chapter Seven -**The Reluctant Dragon

* * *

"The Opaleye is a native of New Zealand - "

Ginny listened with half an ear as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher droned on, reading from a book.

"- Perhaps the most beautiful type of dragon, it has iridescent, pearly scales and multi – colored, pupil – less eyes, hence it's name."

Opal eyes. Draco had had eyes like that, Ginny thought idly.

"If you ever do get the opportunity to see an Antipodean Opaleye, watch it, study it…appreciate its beauty – but do it from afar. They are fierce, beautiful creatures –"

Ginny barely kept a snort from escaping. Draco had to be related.

The book was giving sound advice.

'It's really too bad I'm too stupid to take it,' she thought to herself, a small smile tugging at her lips, as she raised a hand to touch the flat object that was the pendant laying against her chest beneath her robes…

* * *

"Draco Malfoy!"

Draco snapped his head up, doing his best to put a fully awake, cognizant expression on his face. He blinked, and realized he'd fallen asleep during Transfigurations.

Not that he really thought it was any big deal, the class was boring him to death, and if he fell asleep in it, well whose fault was it, really? The teachers'…but he didn't expect Professor McGonagall would see the point in his deductive reasoning.

"Contrary to what you might think, Mr. Malfoy, my class is not your opportunity to catch up on your beauty sleep! Wake up! And five points from Slytherin."

Draco sent a black look at the woman's back, and then his eyes shot over to Potter and Weasley as they snorted into their hands.

He crossed his arms over his chest and slid back down in his seat, consoling himself with the fact that the two boys would be getting a rather nasty shock, soon, no doubt.

* * *

"Why is it, whenever I'm having fun, it's considered wrong?" Ginny snapped to herself out loud as she dragged herself off the Quidditch pitch early that evening.

"You know, I was just thinking the exact same thing," came a lazy drawl from nearby.

Ginny turned to face Draco, again feeling a fleeting embarrassment at the state he was seeing her in.

"Why do you keep popping up when I'm looking my absolute worst?" Ginny snapped again, still irritated from the comments her brother had been throwing at her earlier. She'd been so angry, she'd stayed out practicing until the others had all left, fearing her ability to control herself if she managed to get within a five foot radius of her older brother's throat.

"Oh, I don't think this is your absolute worst – in fact, I remember this time when –"

Ginny shot the smirking boy a look and stopped in mid – sentence, looking amused.

She ran her eyes over him, noting the absence of his practice robes. He still wore his school robes, though they were open, and revealed the black t – shirt and ragged blue denims he wore beneath. He had his hands jammed into his pockets, which of course pulled the nearly threadbare cloth tight across his – well, drew her attention down to –

Flustered, Ginny ripped her eyes away, only to hear him laugh softly.

"I have to go – Hagrid is expecting me," she said after a moment, and then asked, "Aren't you practicing tonight?"

The boy shrugged carelessly. "I canceled it – I figured I'd spend some time with you."

Ginny's tongue-tied itself into some pretty impressive knots before she could speak. Her heart had melted, and was lying in a squashy, panting lump somewhere in the pit of her stomach.

"Oh…w – well, I was just going to help him to get some extra credit for Care of Magical Creatures…I'd, er…invite you, but I really don't think you'd care for what I'm supposed to do."

Draco sauntered forward, and she dropped her eyes as she often found herself doing, to stare at the gleaming silver serpent entwined on it's braided leather cord resting against his throat.

"Oh, I don't know…you'd be surprised what I'd do to have an excuse to spend more time around you..."

Ginny's heart was now lying somewhere in the vicinity of his feet. She took a deep breath as his hands left his pockets, and lifted to the now loose, messy braid hanging over her shoulder.

He worked the tie on its end out, and then pulled apart the tangled plaits.

Her head was bent, and she was feeling incredibly sleepy and relaxed by the time he'd finished combing her hair out with his fingers, arranging it across her shoulders and down her back to his satisfaction before pulling his hands away.

"You should always wear your hair down, Ginny…it's beautiful." He whispered near her ear, making her skin tingle.

"A-all right," she managed to croak, ignoring the fact that she'd been threatening to cut off the annoying mass to Hermione not two days before.

She closed her eyes as he lowered his head to hers, and waited expectantly for his kiss.

Ginny wanted nothing more in that moment than for him to pick her up and take her off somewhere private so they could –

"Fuck!"

Her eyes flew open, and she gasped, startled by the harshly voiced word. "What?" She'd been going to think, 'so they could 'be alone'…

Draco took a step back from her, his lips twisted into a wry, albeit frustrated smile. "Sorry – I just couldn't help noticing, we seem to have a bit of a field invasion on our hands."

Ginny blinked, still feeling warm and fuzzy and turned her head to see Ron stalking towards them, a regretful, more than slightly annoyed looking Hermione at his back.

Ginny rolled her eyes, feeling the desperate need to growl. Well, there went the fuzziness.

She narrowed her eyes, and reached out, taking Draco's hand. "Come on – let's go before he gets here. I may be forced to murder the nosy git if he comes close enough to for me to wrap my hands around his throat."

* * *

Ginny plunged her gloved hands deep into the soft soil in the small garden near Hagrid's hut, blowing a strand of red hair out of her eyes.

"Ah – ha!"

She wrinkled her nose as she gave a great tug and pulled out a wiggling mass of Flobberworms from the ground, and dropped them into the bucket near her feet.

"Well, I think that's enough," she sighed, and stripped off her gloves, looking into the squirming mass of worms with distaste.

Draco snorted from beside her, and pulled off his own gloves. "Extra credit? Right. Feels more like a bloody detention."

Ginny looked over at him, trying not to laugh. "You've got dirt on your nose."

He made a disgusted noise and lifted his hand to rub at it.

"No, you've missed it – hold still." She used the cuff of her shirt to wipe the smudge of dirt away, and then grinned at him.

"You know, I was expecting to hear you say something cutting about not being surprised to see a Weasley digging in the dirt," she finally said, and turned away to pick up the heavy bucket, and carry it up to the storage area Hagrid had waiting for the worms, behind his hut.

"Well, I could have – but I didn't, did I?"

Draco's fingers brushed hers as he tugged the handle from her grip, and carried it through the door.

He reappeared a moment later, and she was still staring at him.

"What?"

"What did you do with Malfoy?"

"Stop it, " he muttered, actually looking embarrassed.

"I'm only teasing you. It's okay to laugh, you know."

Draco sighed. "Are we done here? It's getting dark."

Ginny tried to push away the disappointment she felt, and started to walk away. "Yes…I guess we'd better get back up to the castle – "

He caught her arm, tugging her back. "You're kidding, right? There's no way I'm letting you go that easily."

She stopped, and frowned up at him in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

He smiled at her, but not in a nice way.

"C'mon, Gin – you don't really want to go back up there right now, do you?"

She swallowed at the soft, cajoling purr in his voice, and found herself shaking her head.

He took her hand, twining their fingers together, and took a few steps, giving her a gentle tug.

"Come walk down by the lake with me, and then I'll let you go."

Ginny walked after him, stooping to retrieve her discarded Quidditch robes. "Promise?"

She'd meant it as a joke, but she got a nasty chill when he turned to look back at her, his eyes reflecting the fiery colors of the twilight sky.

"Sorry, Gin – I don't make promises."

She wasn't very surprised when they reached the trees near the edge of the lake, to have him suddenly stop and pull her into his arms.

She wanted to tell him to stop, to point out the fact that she positively filthy, and he couldn't possibly have any interest in her, but all she could do was lean into him and hold onto his shirtfront for dear life.

Draco discovered he'd never wanted anything so badly in his entire life as he wanted Ginny Weasley just then.

It wasn't her looks, or even her willingness, really, that was appealing to him so. It was what she always revealed about herself as he kissed her. He'd had plenty of women, so most of the time it was old hat with him – but everything seemed new when it came to Ginny.

He deepened the kiss, suppressing a satisfied smile when she went limp against him, her breath sighing against his cheek.

This was what he loved about her – there was no deceit, no teasing, or pretty show of reluctance…her emotions were real, everything about her was real…

Loved.

Warning bells clashed insanely inside his head, and he tore his mouth from hers to stare down at her beautiful, flushed face, and closed eyes in dismay.

Fate wouldn't be so cruel…

He looked at her again, clenching his jaw against the sudden, unfamiliar roil of emotions in his chest.

She opened her eyes slowly, after a moment, her velvety brown eyes slightly unfocused, and holding an unspoken question.

He tried to reason with himself, tried to remain cold and calm against the fierce surge of longing coursing through him.

"Draco,"

He stared into Ginny's eyes as she flattened her small, warm hands against his chest, and stroked her palms slowly, innocently down his sides to clasp her arms around his slim waist.

Draco swallowed a groan as she pressed her hips against him, innocently. He wanted desperately to take what she was offering, but…

He extracted himself from her slowly, taking a clumsy step back.

She frowned at him, her hands moving to clasp her upper arms.

"Draco? What is it? What's wrong?"

"Go away, Ginny."

She blinked at him, her lips parting slightly. "What?"

"Are you deaf? I told you to go away," he snapped, his words harsher then he intended.

She bit her lip, and shook her head. "No."

"Damn it, Ginny – you have no idea what I'm contemplating right now…you should be running, screaming."

"I'm not going anywhere, Draco."

He stepped back up to her and gave her a hard, deep kiss, venting his frustration on her lips.

"Afraid yet?"

She shook her head. "I think you're the one who's afraid, Draco."

"I'm afraid for you, right now, to be quite honest!" He snarled, his voice raising.

"I'm not scared of you."

"Then you should be." Draco raked a hand through his hair and cut his eyes at her threateningly when she didn't immediately move.

"Go back to the castle, Ginny."

"No!"

"My God, you're a pain in the ass!" He found himself roaring in pure aggravation.

"Stop shouting at me!" She yelled back, her expression fierce, her face flushed. "I get quite enough of that from Ron, already!"

Draco took a deep breath.

"Don't you ever get tired of fighting to stay alone?"

He frowned at her through his hair. "What are you going on about?"

She walked forward and grabbed his hand, shaking her head at him.

"You think you're the only one who's been thrown off by this? What do you think I did when I finally admitted to myself that I loved you? I didn't run about jumping for joy, you know!"

"What – oh, no, I'm not in love with you…you can get that thought right out of your head, Weasel – "

"Reverting to your old ways, I see! It was fine when it was just a game to you, wasn't it? But now, when you start realizing you have feelings for me –"

"Ginny-"

"No, you hate the fact that you just realized that you're just as human as the rest of us, don't you?"

"The only thing I'm feeling for you right would be better described with you preferably on your back, so if you know what's good for you, you'll bloody well lay off!"

Draco fisted his hands, watching some alarm at last cross her pretty features, her hand coming up to touch her throat.

He cursed and stalked past her before he gave into temptation, furious that everything had backfired on him so badly.

"If you walk away from this right now, Draco, I'll hate you forever," she said from behind him.

He paused only long enough to look back at her over his shoulder.

"I think I'll get over it," he replied with a smirk that he knew would infuriate her, and walked away.

* * *

(A/N: Thanks for the reviews and e–mails, guys – Sorry about the wait, again. I hope you liked this one! Thanks again! Luv ya! Lee) 


	8. Chapter Eight Everything

**The Dragon Rebels**

**Disclaimer:** It's not mine!

(**A/N:** Not the most original chapter, I'll grant you, but I hope you guys like it anyways! Thanks so much for the reviews, all! Luv 'ya! Lee)

**Chapter Eight -** Everything

* * *

Ginny watched Draco walk away with an odd sinking feeling – which wasn't so bad, actually, because, really, what had she been expecting after all?

She sent a trembling smile after his retreating back, and sighed heavily.

_'You aren't fooling anyone,'_ she thought to herself, wrapping her arms around her middle in an attempt to comfort herself.

_'You were only expecting the impossible. Only expecting everything.'_

She sank down to sit on the grassy bank, and watched him until he was out of sight in the gathering darkness.

Ginny appeared in the Gryffindor common room an hour later, looking pale and cold, and grubby in her stained Quidditch robes.

Ron stood up immediately and started to march over to no doubt yell at her, but the expression on her face must have been something, because he faltered, and she walked right by him and up the stairs to her dorm.

Ginny stripped off her robes, and showered in water made as hot as she could stand it, before she retreated to her bed, and drew the curtains tight against the world.

She lay in her bed for a long time, trying to remain very still as gradually, everything went silent around her.

All she could think of as she stared into the blackness was how incredibly stupid she was.

Honestly, could she have picked a worse boy to fall for?

Well, maybe Tom, but he didn't really count…

Ginny squeezed her eyes shut against an unwanted wave of hot, stinging tears.

_'Draco Malfoy, of all people - God, you stupid, stupid girl!'_

She rolled over onto her stomach, intent on smothering herself with her pillow, and smothered a yelp when something hard dug into her chest.

Her hand came up to tug out the offending object, and her fingers encountered the crystal pendant 'he' had given her.

Torn between wanting to rip it off, and wanting to hold it and cry like a baby, she clutched it hard in her palm until it actually hurt, half – hoping to feel it break in her hand.

She finally opened up her fingers, and let the pendant drop back against her skin. As much as she wanted to pull it off and hurl it away, she couldn't make herself do it.

_"I only wanted it because you touched it,"_ she heard his voice saying again in her mind. 

"Shut up, Draco," Ginny whispered into the silence.

_"Just shut up."_

* * *

Wearing a look that stated quite clearly 'leave me alone', Ginny skipped breakfast on the next Saturday morning, successfully avoided eye contact with her brother, any contact at all with Draco, and made it out onto the Quidditch pitch just in time to meet the others as they took their places for the Gryffindor/Ravenclaw match.

There was a new commentator for the games this year – but the boy lacked the particular talent and penchant for cursing of Lee Jordan – which was why he'd been chosen by McGonagall, Ginny suspected, remembering all the times she'd spied Lee and the professor wrestling over the microphone.

_"Welcome to Hogwarts first Quidditch game of the season everyone! Today's match is Ravenclaw versus Gryffindor!"_

She mounted her broom behind her team mates, and kicked off, flying up into the air.

Taking her place, she glanced around the stadium, the excited cheers from the crowd echoing in her ears, setting her blood to pumping. The Gryffindors were wearing red rosettes pinned to their robes, and proudly waving scarlet and gold banners and flags.

"Ginny – we've got to win today," Ron said suddenly from beside her. "Try to restrain yourself from blowing kisses to bloody Malfoy until after the game, will you?'

Angrily, Ginny reached out a booted foot and gave the tail of her brother's broom a rough shove.

A collective gasp came from the stands, and Ginny cut her eyes at her brother warningly, even as Madam Hooch called up a harsh warning to her at her behavior.

Ron's broom jerked alarmingly in the air, and spun, and he barely managed to right himself before he lost his grip.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? I almost fell!"

"Pity!" Ginny shot back, grinding her teeth.

_"Looks like some sibling rivalry going on between Gryffindor team mates Ginny and Ron Weasley! Let's hope they steer some of that aggressiveness toward their opponents!"_

She ignored the announcement, the stabbing looks Ron was shooting her way, and the questioning glances of Harry and her other team mates. She hovered above Madam Hooch impatiently, waiting for the whistle to signal the start of the game – the sooner it was over, the better.

The knowledge that Draco was watching her every move was making her extremely nervous, but it also made her determined to do anything to win. She'd never wanted to win a match so badly.

The whistle sounded at last, the shrilling screech hurting her ears.

_"The Bludgers are up, followed by the Golden Snitch, worth one hundred and fifty points! Remember, the team that catches the Snitch ends the game!"_

Madam Hooch lobbed the Quaffle into the air, and six pairs of eyes followed the movement avidly.

_"The Quaffle is released – and the game begins!"_

A rush of pure adrenaline streaked through Ginny, and she leaned low and flat along her Firebolt as she shot forward into the rough scramble of arms and hands reaching for the bright red ball.

* * *

_"Ravenclaw Chaser Gabe Lowery in possession of the Quaffle – he's looking for a break - Gryffindor Keeper Ron Weasley isn't making it easy for him –"_

The roaring noise of the crowd in the stands was deafening.

Ginny was a scarlet streak in the air as she crossed the pitch, near to the ground, her brown eyes narrowed on her goal – the Quaffle which was currently in some blue clad Ravenclaw's death grip.

Gryffindor was ahead by thirty points – but Harry had yet to catch the Snitch.

The new Ravenclaw Seeker who'd taken Cho Chang's place looked positively lost, though – that was a plus, both Molly and Curtis were performing like pro's, and Dean and Seamus were beating back the Bludgers with a vengeance.

Ginny ducked as a Ravenclaw Chaser dove to avoid a Bludger coming at her, very nearly taking Ginny with her as she tumbled off her broom with a yelp, and fell the ten feet or so to the grassy field below.

Ginny grimaced in commiseration, and then jerked upwards on her broom, as she saw a Ravenclaw Chaser make a speeding, zigzagging beeline for the Gryffindor hoops. Molly came flush with the boy, made a grab for the ball, tucked beneath his arm, and missed.

A disappointed roar came from the Gryffindor stands as the Ravenclaw approached the goals.

Ron was swerving around the hoops at high speed, intent on blocking the Quaffle.

Ginny narrowed her eyes, and shot a glance downward, taking in the seemingly careless movements of the other remaining Ravenclaw Chaser hovering just below the action.

She took a deep breath, and darted downward – just in time to see the chaser racing overhead, Molly and Curtis on his tail, throw the bright red Quaffle downwards to his team mate – who had a nearly clear, open shot at the lowest hoop.

"Come on, come on – " She urged her broom to go faster, shaking her hair from her eyes in frustration.

Ginny stole between the two chasers, and swiftly snatched the ball out of the air, somersaulting in order to keep herself from illegally entering the Gryffindor scoring area.

She found herself grinning so wide it almost hurt as she straightened out in the air – but there wasn't any time to congratulate herself – the Chasers were right behind her.

She sped off toward the opposite end of the field, and then a bludger was suddenly screaming at her from straight ahead, coming fast.

Way too fast.

Eyes wide, Ginny almost dropped the Quaffle tucked securely under her arm.

"Molly!"

The spiky haired girl shook her head madly, looking panicked, but Ginny threw the ball at her anyway, and looked forward just before the heavy metal bludger would make contact.

* * *

In the stands, Draco saw the two Ravenclaw beaters hit one of the bludgers at the same time, and cursed out loud.

_"Ravenclaw Beaters Connor Bourke and Finch Needham follow through on a Dopplebeater Defense as Gryffindor's star Chaser Ginny Weasley approaches the goals…Gryffindor Beater Dean Thomas makes a wild effort -"_

The heavy missile was aimed straight at Ginny and was moving too fast, and with too much force for her to ever hope to get out of the way in time.

His heart was in his throat as he watched her waste precious seconds handing off the bloody Quaffle, and then try to lurch frantically to one side out of the Bludger's way.

The sickening crunch of breaking bone could be heard even over the noise of the crowd, and Draco felt his heart stop as Ginny's head fell to one side, and she slid sideways off her broom, hanging by one arm for a moment, wavering, before falling through the air, Firebolt and all, to the pitch below.

_"Oh, Ginny Weasley is down – she's down, and very unfortunately for Gryffindor, out of the game! That looked bad! But wait – yes, new Gryffindor Chaser Molly Colerain scores! That's Gryffindor up by forty points, making the score sixty to Ravenclaw's twenty!"_

Draco never knew how he got to the ground level as quickly as he did, but before he knew it, his boots were crunching against gravel, and then rough green turf as he ran across the pitch to get to her.

* * *

"Oh come on – no one's died playing Quidditch in years!"

"Ron, are you even looking at her?"

"Of course I'm looking at her, 'Mione! She's my sister, isn't she? She'll be fine – "

"Didn't Madam Pomfrey tell you she punctured a bloody lung?"

Ginny sure felt sorry for whoever the voices were talking about. She tried to open her eyes to see what was happening, but she was so sleepy, and the place where she was so fuzzy and comforting, her eyelids far too heavy to bother lifting.

"She – I thought she just broke a few ribs..."

"No, Weasley, she didn't just 'break a few ribs' – she broke four on her left side, and one of them punctured her lung when she hit the ground. She did almost die, you stupid, annoying prat."

"Stay out of this, Malfoy – you shouldn't be allowed in here anyway, you aren't family! Why the hell do you care what happens to her?"

"Ron, shut up!"

"Hermione – "

"What? You going to make me leave, Weasley? Right, just give me an excuse to kick your freckled, worthless ass –"

"Mr. Malfoy! You should be ashamed! Go! In fact, everyone, out! By God, I'll see you all in detention if you've disturbed her rest – "

"I'm not going anywhere!" Four voices stated at once.

"Out!"

Ginny tried to speak, but she couldn't make her lips move. She wanted desperately to know exactly what was going on – but apparently not as desperately as her body wanted her to sleep.

The first words out of her mouth when she at last woke up were, "Did we win?"

Of course it had to be the middle of the night – and nary a person was to be found.

Ginny squinted around the dark, silent infirmary, and sighed, the sudden pain in her left side at the simple action causing tears to come to her eyes.

She lifted her sheets, using her left hand to gently probe her ribs through the thin gown she wore.

Her chest had been wrapped tightly in bandages.

Ginny dropped the sheet with a curse, trying not to breathe too deeply – everything about her left side felt bruised and raw, and she had no doubt Pomfrey had had to heal a break or two.

Her hand rose to grasp the crystal around her neck – and she panicked as she felt nothing but smooth skin.

"Madam Pomfrey? Madam Pomfrey!"

The woman came tearing in out of nowhere, looking half asleep, and wearing a plaid wool dressing gown.

"What? What is it?" The woman moved forward, her hand over her heart. "Oh it's you, Miss Weasley – " she gasped. "What are you doing sitting up? Lay back, now – lay back I say!"

Ginny did as she was told, feeling rather ill.

"You're positively green – you should have known better than to strain yourself that way!"

"My pendant – where is my necklace?"

Madam Pomfrey stilled, and frowned at her. "Necklace? What necklace? You didn't have any necklace – oh, dear. You must have hit your head in the fall harder than I thought – "

"Oh no! It must have fallen off out there during the game!" Ginny sat up again, only to be pushed down. A trickle of sweat rolled down her cheek, and she bit her lip against the pain in her side.

"You don't understand, I have to find that necklace –"

"Not now, you don't, Miss! I'll allow you to speak to your brother about it in the morning – for now, you drink this, and go back to sleep!"

Ginny pushed the glass that appeared in Pomfrey's hand away shakily. "No, I can't – I have to go –"

"Now!"

Ginny grudgingly took the glass and swallowed the thick, foul tasting potion, frustrated to the point of tears.

"Now sleep, and get some rest, my dear – everything will be better in the morning, you'll see."

Allowing her head to sink back onto the pillow, Ginny forced her eyes to remain open.

"Did we win?"

The older woman clucked her tongue, and pulled the blankets up to beneath her chin.

"Yes, Gryffindor won – but don't bother asking me what the score was, I haven't the slightest."

"Good," murmured Ginny, blinking against the effects of the potion. The red - hot pain was dulling, and rapidly receding, thankfully.

"Was Draco here, earlier?"

The older woman's brow wrinkled into lines of concern.

"Well, Mr. Malfoy was here to see you on Saturday."

"Saturday? Well, what day is it, exactly?"

"It's Thursday, dear – you've been out for almost a week."

Ginny yawned, and at last closed her eyes.

"I lost my necklace…he gave it to me, you know. I have to find it."

"Don't worry, dear – just rest now."

"I can't sleep," she mumbled, and then she went and made a liar of herself, drifted off, despite her best efforts to remain awake.

* * *

" – disowned, you know."

"What?" Ginny opened her eyes, and found herself staring at the infirmary ceiling.

"Ah, now you're awake. It figures, " came a familiar, cynical voice.

She frowned, and turned her head on her pillow, hope rising hurtfully in her chest.

"Draco?"

The tired looking boy sat forward in his chair next to her bed, and rested his forearms on the edge of her bed.

Ginny tried to blink away the fuzziness of sleep, and stared at him.

He raised one blond brow and smirked at her.

"You look… done in."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Ginny closed her eyes again.

"You can open your eyes – I know you're awake."

She pressed her lips together, and allowed her eyes to snap back open.

"You know what? I'm glad you're here!"

"Of course you are," said Draco dryly.

"I am – and I'll tell you why!"

Draco crossed his arms over his chest.

"Because I want to tell you to your face that I think you're the most impolite, argumentative, egotistical, ill-mannered ass in the entirety of Great Britain!"

Ginny glared at him, waiting for him to retaliate. She saw his eyes narrow on her suddenly, looking icy and unreadable.

"Where is it?"

"Where is what?" She looked down, and remembered her necklace was gone.

"Oh – I guess I lost it."

"You lost it? That's a bloody lame excuse. More like you lobbed it, after I told you off last week."

Ginny felt her jaw fall open in outrage. "You bas –"

"Shut up."

"I –"

"Ginny, shut up – just shut up, or I swear I'll…"

She turned over onto her side, facing away from his with an extreme effort. Her bruised side protested the movement, but she gritted her teeth, and allowed her red curls to slide over her face and hide her troubled expression.

"Please, try to control your enthusiasm at the fact that I've been sitting here with you for the past six hours," he muttered nastily at the back of her head.

Ginny rolled her eyes, but remained silent. She was still angry with him for thinking she'd have willingly thrown away his gift. And that, after she'd told him she loved him!

"Look at me, Ginny," he finally commanded softly.

She clenched her jaw and remained on her side. She'd lay there until she rotted if she wanted!

"Fine. But I've got something to say, and you're bloody well going to listen."

Ginny frowned when he paused.

"I told my parents off."

She rolled over, wincing, her expression one of stunned disbelief.

"You did what?"

He stood up from his chair, looking shaky and rumpled, and she watched him pace in the sunlight at the foot of her bed.

"I told them to bugger off,"

"You sound a little unsure about that," commented Ginny, eyeing him doubtfully.

"If I do, it's because I still can't quite believe it myself," Draco snapped, his expression fierce, his eyes hard and full of shadows. "They've disowned me – cut me out of their will and all that – it's not so bad, though – got a huge trust fund from my Grandmother, you know –"

"I thought you worshipped your Father. You always acted just like him – you wore your hair just like his…" Ginny stared at him, confused.

Draco stopped and glared at her rather pointedly through his long disheveled hair.

"Oh. I see…" And she did. Sort of.

"Why? I mean, everyone talked about it, at the beginning of the year, but you said –"

"I said he didn't disown me, and for once I wasn't lying." He shot her a threatening look as she opened her mouth to speak.

He clasped his hands behind his back, and continued to pace.

"I was getting sick of him telling what I must do, what I must wear, what I must eat, planning this, planning that, planning my whole bloody future!"

Ginny bit back a smile as she watched him childishly kick at something on the floor.

"Is it really that bad?"

He paused and sneered at her.

"They expected me to marry Pansy Parkinson."

Ginny felt her lip curl.

"Precisely. You can imagine my dislike of his 'proposition'. So I set out to make him as ashamed of me as possible. Hence the hair – and the clothes, among other…things." Draco stared at the floor in disgust.

"I knew you were lying about something – I knew you hadn't changed!" Ginny sat up in her bed, ignoring the burning pain as she stretched her muscles.

"Why did I listen to Hermione?"

"What are you going on about?"

"You! You were playing me, from that first day on the train – you, you dirty little ferret!"

"Jesus, Gin, what did you expect? I'm Draco Malfoy, for God's sake! Of course I was playing you! I wanted you, and I decided I was going to have you – the fact that it would send my Father into an enraged fit only sweetened the deal!"

"And you, being who you are, always get what you want," said Ginny bitterly.

"Yes." He turned back to her, frowned, and shook his head. "Lay down, won't you? You look half dead as it is."

"Nice to know what you really think of me. I told you I loved you – how could I be so stupid?"

"While I may question your intelligence at times, I don't think I can question your feelings, Ginny. You're the most honest, innocent, kind – hearted person I know –"

"The only honest, innocent, kind – hearted person you know," interjected Ginny smarmily.

"- and it took me some time to realize you couldn't lie to me."

She looked up into his silvery eyes and swallowed.

"You've got to understand, Gin – everyone in my life lies – I was lying to my parents outright by the time I was two! And they were ruddy proud of it, I tell you!

"Are you trying to make me feel sorry for you?"

He narrowed his eyes cunningly.

"Is it working?"

Ginny growled, and lay back, rolling onto her side again.

"Ginny."

"Next you're going to be telling me you love me," she snarled into her pillow.

He sighed angrily behind her, and she picture him running his hands through his hair.

"I don't love you, Ginny. It's impossible for me to be able to love you – or anyone for that matter."

"Whatever."

"It's true. I – the reason I left you like that the other night, was because I started to feel something for you – and it scared me, Ginny, it scared me more than anything."

"More than the sight of Voldemort, even?"

"Don't start." He moved behind her, and she could feel him staring at her back.

"I do love you," she murmured hopelessly.

"Love is only a worthless word, Ginny," Draco scoffed in his usual manner.

"It sucks your emotions from you, and then it kills your spirit. There's no way I'm ever letting it trick me - look at what it's done to you, after all. It's making you crazy! It isn't worth going through the pain."

Ginny silently wondered to herself if she'd ever learn to keep her big mouth shut.

"Well?"

"Well what?" She asked, annoyed.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" Draco walked around the bed and stared down at her expectantly.

"What do you want me to say, Draco? It's okay that you won't take the risk? That I'm not hurt, or confused by the fact that your actions always say one thing, and your lips another?"

"You're just being dramatic, now. I should have known better than to try and reason with a sixteen year old girl," he snapped scathingly, his eyes flashing, "and one who's a bloody Gryffindor at that!"

Closing her eyes, praying for patience, Ginny counted to ten. Then to twenty.

"I don't have time for this," he finally drawled viciously, irritation coloring his voice. "Come and talk to me when you've grown up a bit – I'm in no mood to play hide and seek with you anymore."

She listened to him walk away, and only opened her eyes when his heavy footsteps had faded.

A silver glint caught her eye, and her brow furrowed. She pushed herself up on her elbow, and plucked a shiny object out of her tangled sheets.

A tiny, hissing silver snake entwined around a braided leather necklace fell against her hand.

Ginny curled her palm around the ornament – the metal was still warm from Draco's skin.

She thought for a moment that the clasp must have broken, but…it was closed, tight and secure.

Shoving the necklace angrily beneath her pillow, she lay back on it, and stared at the ceiling, feeling poisoned by her emotions, and more confused than ever.

* * *

TBC 


	9. Chapter Nine Empty Victories

**The Dragon Rebels**

**Chapter Nine -** Empty Victories

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing! And I mean, nothing!

(**A/N:** I should be shot for this – I had absolutely _NO_ idea that it had been so long since I had updated this fic! I got this e-mail, looked back at the date on the fic, and was like, _"No sht!"_ Anyway, here's chapter nine – I'm sorry about the wait. Got caught up in other things I guess. _BTW_ – I have _NOT _abandoned _Harry Potter-Dark Wizard_ – the end chapter just sucked – it was incredibly flat, incredibly stale, and it's just waiting for me to get off my rear and finish it. I have major rewriting to do on that fic. It will be done, someday, soon, I hope. As for this chapter, it contains more Quidditch, I love writing matches, don't hate me. Okay, done rambling – hope ya like. _Thanks for reading!_ Lee)

* * *

When Ginny at last returned to Gryffindor tower, it was to find that the rest of her team mates had gotten together to throw her a belated victory party.

In her opinion, it just gave the _boys_ another excuse to again celebrate.

She entered the common room amid a roar of discussion, and arched a brow at Ron and Seamus, who were the only two who appeared not to have noticed her.

" – won it, so _give over_!"

Ginny rolled her eyes.

"No way! You said two weeks, and it's just now past that – "

"Seamus, are you welching?"

"Weasley, how can you _say_ tha' to _me_? You've gone an hurt me feelin's, now! How would you feel if I –"

"All I wanna' feel is you sliding that galleon into my hand," Ron said gruffly with a warning scowl.

"All right, all right – no one'll ever accuse me of welchin' on a bloody bet – "

"Betting isn't allowed, I'm sure you two remember," Ginny announced loudly, and the two boys turned on her with identical winces.

"Ginny! Nice to see you up and about – " Seamus began weakly, his cheeks blood red.

"Uh – huh." Ginny narrowed her eyes and fisted her hands on her hips. "Just what were you two betting on?"

Ron grinned. "Nothing, really – just a friendly little wager – "

"Answer me one thing – did it have anything to do with me?"

"Er – " the two older boys exchanged quick glances.

"Nah - " said Seamus quickly.

"Sort of – " explained Ron at the exact same time.

Ginny looked between the boys and then deftly grabbed the gold coin from her brothers hand.

"Hey!"

Ginny smiled smugly and slipped the galleon into her robe pocket. "Thank you very much for the get well gift – I'm feeling better all ready."

Ron shut his mouth with a snap and made a sound of extreme disgust before he wandered off grumbling beneath his breath all the while.

Seamus sent her an abashed look, shrugged, and then turned away with a wink.

Ginny sighed, and shook her head. _Boys._

She was happy enough to sit through the congratulatory handshakes, and the inquiries after her health from the rest of her housemates after that. She blushed once at praise from Harry, and shared an amused glance with Hermione when Ron finally decided to stop sulking and join them. She was eager to be alone, and so pled a headache – which was really non–existent – and excused herself, making her way up to her dorm. It wasn't that she really wanted to spend anymore time in bed than she'd already been forced to, but it was the one place she'd not be disturbed.

She was settling into her bed when Hermione entered the room. But she wasn't really surprised to see her. They hadn't spoken in some time, and the look on the older girl's face told her she was itching to talk.

"So," Hermione began, "was winning that game worth spending two weeks in the Infirmary?"

Ginny sighed exasperatedly. "Of _course_ it was. And I'm not in the mood for any lectures about personal safety, either, thanks."

Hermione bit her lip. "I wasn't going to 'lecture' you. I just wanted to know if I could do anything for you. You look down."

"I am down," Ginny moaned, resisting the urge to bury her head beneath her blankets.. "Draco came to see me." She snuck a hesitant look at her friend.

"This is bad?" Hermione arched her brows in a pitying manner.

"Well – he told me he told his parents off. He said they disowned him," she murmured somewhat guiltily.

Hermione gasped. "Because of you?"

Ginny shook her head, staring at her hands, plucking at her blanket. "I don't know,"

"Well? What happened?" The girl settled on the edge of her bed and looked at her expectantly.

"He said they wanted him to marry Pansy." The disgust she felt was evident in her voice.

Hermione made a face that matched Ginny's expression exactly.

"Precisely." Ginny shook her head, and then added in disgruntlement, "I also finally found out why he's been paying me so much attention this year."

_"And?"_

"He said he did it just to hack off his Dad, for him being so controlling. My Machiavellian little Slytherin seems to be going through a sort of rebellious phase." Ginny flopped back fully onto her pillows and stared at the canopy.

"Obviously…I was giving him more credit than he deserved, I supposed." Hermione looked at her thoughtfully. "I really thought he was in love with you."

"Yeah, well. I guess it worked, in his favor, anyway. I should have known. He claims he 'can't' love anyone."

"That's the biggest lie I've ever heard," Hermione said in outrage.

"I think he really does believe it." Ginny rolled onto her stomach with a very slight wince, and sighed. "I don't blame him for wanting to get the hell away from his parents – if they ruined him so much he thinks he _can't_ love anyone – "

"He's scared," Hermione commented wisely.

"He is – he admitted it."

Hermione looked at her in surprise. "He _admitted_ it?"

"Yep."

"So he doesn't want to 'see' you anymore?"

"Not at all. He just wants an understanding, I think," Ginny said bitterly. "He wants me, but on the grounds that he doesn't have to make any kind of commitment. That's what _I _got out of it, anyway. He doesn't understand why I'm angry about being used, either."

"What did you _say_ to him?"

"Not much…he told me to come and 'talk' to him when I've grow up a bit. Accused me of being immature." Red stained her cheeks at the memory.

Hermione said something very rude beneath her breath.

Her lips quirked into an unwilling smile.

"I'm not going to worry about it," she said after a long pause. "I'm going to forget all about him, _completely ignore the miserable sot – "_

"_Right_ – so why are you wearing his necklace?" Hermione asked primly.

Ginny froze, and then rolled her eyes. "I hadn't meant for anyone to see that," she muttered finally, reaching up to finger the warm ornament.

"I'm sure you didn't," the other girl remarked dryly.

Ginny sighed gustily. "God, what am I going to do? He's going to drive me_ barmy_, I swear!"

"From the way you played that last game, I'd say there's a fair chance he already has," mumbled Hermione beneath her breath as she patted her hand in friendly commiseration.

Ginny groaned and then did stick her head beneath a pillow_. "And I just remembered – we have a game against Slytherin in two more weeks!"_

"Oh, right – the one just before Christmas break, isn't it? Why did they move that one up this year, again?"

_"Because, Professor Trelawney predicted a monster blizzard in January,"_ came Ginny's muffled, long suffering voice from beneath her pillow.

_"Pfft! That woman!" _Hermione stood and Ginny peeked out at her. "She couldn't predict the next bowel movement of a Flobberworm!"

"_Ewww, Hermione_ – you're supposed to be comforting me, not making me properly nauseous!"

"Oh, I'm sorry. She just bothers me!"

"That seems to be putting it rather mildly,"

Hermione sighed. "Listen, I'm going to go and let you sleep – I'll come and wake you for dinner, all right?"

Ginny covered her face with the pillow again and listlessly waved her on.

When she was again alone, she listened to the blissful silence around her and drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

Two Weeks Later…

* * *

It was the second hour of the match between Gryffindor and Slytherin - and it was quickly turning out to be one of the _dirtiest_ matches Hogwarts had ever seen.

In the past hour, Ginny had found herself witness to more fouls at one time by the Slytherin team than all she'd seen in the past two _years!_

The Slytherin Keeper had been called on for _Flacking_, their Chaser's for _Stooging _and _Haversacking,_ and Draco, for _Blagging _- which to Ginny wasn't really all that surprising - he'd done it before to Harry, countless times.

She just wished she didn't have to feel so disappointed in him…

Ginny was just about to toss the Quaffle through a goal to score when a roaring gasp rose from the stands - she looked back over her shoulder just in time to see Professors McGonagall and Flitwick deflect the two Bludgers from striking one of the Gryffindor stands and it's spectators - she missed the opportunity and had to veer off so as not to be accused of committing a foul herself.

Immediately the cry of Foul went up from the non-Slytherin spectators. _"Foul! That was Bumphing! Foul! Foul! Bumphing Penalty!"_

Ginny flew past a grim looking Draco, who spared her not a glance, and Ginny looked forward again, her eyes narrowing as she saw Madam Hooch waving furiously, her whistle shrilling.

_"Penalty shot awarded to Gryffindor!"_

Ginny shook her head as she returned to the central circle to take her shot - it was only the fourth penalty awarded to Gryffindor in the past hour - if she hadn't known she'd be crazy to think it, she'd almost have thought Draco was allowing his team to run wild on purpose - almost as if he wanted to make sure they'd lose the game.

_"Ten points to Gryffindor!"_

Ginny moved off after she shot the Quaffle past the Slytherin Keeper, a cheer from the stands rattling her eardrums - just then Harry sped past, a gold and scarlet blur that made a rush of a breeze ruffle her hair as he dove for the tiny, glinting golden Snitch.

Draco was hard on his tail, Ginny held her breath along with everyone else as the Snitch spiraled lower and lower towards the ground, and the two Seekers followed.

Just when Ginny knew they were both about to crash, Harry suddenly pulled up and shot forward, and Malfoy twisted off in the opposite direction, narrowly missing touching the grass. Harry was shooting straight up into the air, and then he stopped, hovering above the central circle, waving the snitch with its wildly beating wings in his fist.

_"Gryffindor Seeker Harry Potter has the Snitch! Gryffindor wins, an incredible two hundred and fifty points to Slytherins fifty!"_

Ginny flew over to Harry along with the rest of their team mates to yell congratulations - she saw Draco hovering nearby, his pale, pointed features shadowed by the fall of his silvery blonde hair, which she noticed had grown longer in the past weeks. Or maybe it was just her. She'd done her best to ignore him the past weeks – she hadn't allowed herself to even look at him.

Ginny felt the hollow ache in her chest spread as she continued to watch him. She couldn't see his expression, but she assumed it probably wasn't terribly pleasant…especially since he'd just lost to Harry – _again._

* * *

Draco grinned wickedly - Slytherin had lost - _again_ - and his Father was surely going to hear of it. It would piss the old man off to no end - a fitting repayment for disowning him. But it still wasn't enough…

He caught sight Ginny looking across at him and allowed himself to look his fill. Her cheeks were wind burned, her flaming red curls wild and tangled and catching the sunlight like a multi-faceted diamond, sparking embers of lighter and darker red and orange throughout the soft mass.

She tried to hood her eyes as she watched him, but he could see her looking at him curiously, her soft brandy brown eyes steady. Draco ran his eyes over the length of her legs peeking from beneath the scarlet of her robes, and slowly, deliberately lifted his hand, pushing his hair from his face to let her see exactly where his eyes were directed.

Ginny actually flinched, and hurriedly turned her broom so that he was facing her slender back.

Draco thought for a moment, and a slow smile slid across his lips. So…the littlest Weasley was again frightened of him - it made sense, he thought, as he glided down to the pitch to face his disgruntled teammates. In the past three weeks since that day in the Infirmary, Ginny had done her best not to come anywhere near him.

She was probably worried about getting attached to him again. He'd hurt her – he hadn't really meant to, but he hadn't really cared rather, to be truthful – she'd just been a means to an end. _'She still could be,'_ he told himself thoughtfully.

He couldn't decide whether or not he liked the thought of her being scared of him again. A year ago he would have gone out of his way to terrify her had he found out, but now –

"Hey, good going Malfoy – you just lost us the game!"

"Yeah, _again!_"

Draco halted mid-step and looked up from his absent study of the ground. His team was standing before him wearing expressions of murder.

"Get over it," he said flatly, and started around them.

"Where do you think you're going, Malfoy?" An overly large hand came down on his shoulder, and he looked at it slowly, pointedly. He kept his head low as he raised his eyes to look up at the larger boy from beneath drawn brows.

"I highly suggest you let this go, Crabbe," he told his former friend in a threatening tone.

He was aware of the Gryffindor team landing on the pitch all around them, and of several, including Ginny, walking up to see what was going on.

"Screw you, Malfoy – "

Draco had never had another Slytherin speak to him in such a tone of disrespect, and he didn't like it. He stared into Vincent Crabbe's sweaty, beady-eyed face and deliberately took a step forward, raising a fist to violently knock his meaty hand from his shoulder.

"I think you're forgetting just who the bloody hell you're talking to, Crabbe," Draco snapped coldly, with a smirk.

"You? You're _no one_. You were _disowned_, remember?" Crabbe dug meanly in his rough, grating voice.

Draco's smirk abruptly faded, his eyes becoming as flat and wintry as the white, frozen pitch around them.

Crabbe was looking at him stupidly with something akin to triumph in his piggy eyes.

The air had become eerily silent.

Draco, furious, but smart enough to know he couldn't win a fist fight with Crabbe, snarled in a low whisper, "I may have been disowned, but I'm still a Malfoy you worthless, brainless mountain of flesh, and you'll do well to remember it – or do you really want me to have to remind you? You well know what I'm capable of. Need another demonstration?" He allowed his wand to slip down from inside his sleeve, into his hand – in an instant he had it lazily twirling in his fingertips.

The implied threat worked. Crabbe and the others backed off, mumbling, and he once more made sure the message was clear before he turned his back.

Ginny was standing nearly behind him, staring.

Draco let his eyes lock with hers for just a moment, then e dropped his – and caught sight of a silvery glint at her throat. The sight of his necklace against her skin made him pause as a surge of possessiveness streaked through him. In the end, his pride won out, as it always did, and he tucked away his wand, and hauled his broom up onto his shoulder as he walked off the pitch, listening to the Gryffindors in the stands begin cheering again behind him. He ignored thescathing lookshis fellow house members sent his way, and continued on up to the castle.

* * *

TBC 


	10. Chapter Ten Just Another Day

**The Dragon Rebels**

**Disclaimer:** Yeah, right, _I_ own this? Wake up, you're dreaming!

(**A/N:** Ah. Did I tell you guys I love you yet? Honestly, the comments in your reviews are so very inspiring – I'm just sorry I don't get to update as much as I'd like to anymore. It's so frustrating – I have notebooks and scraps of envelopes and even _receipts_ full of stuff I have to scrawl down in the car or in between bites at dinner that don't even make it to the story, because I either haven't got the time to write, or my beloved laptop starts acting up! _Grrr._ Okay, done ranting.

I really hope you guys like this chapter, and thanks so much for your reviews. You don't know how much I appreciate you!

BTW – The bet between Seamus and Ron last chapter will come in later, don't worry, as will what happened to Ginny's beloved crystal pendant! )

**Chapter Ten -** Just Another Day

* * *

It was hard to believe it was Christmas already.

Ginny awoke the day before they were all to go home for the holidays feeling thoroughly unrested and ready to jump out of her skin.

It was during breakfast, while listening to the excited chatter of the other students surrounding her, that she the thought first occurred to her.

Where would Draco be spending Christmas? Not with his 'family', that much was for certain.

Ginny looked over at where at sat, bordered by unsympathetic 'friends', looking apathetic, indifferent, to his hostile surroundings. His fellow house mates sat well away from him now, their dislike for him obvious, but their fear of him keeping certain unwise lips clamped shut. Ginny could see why – his cold, hooded silvery eyes half hidden by the fall of his steadily lengthening hair, and his deceptively lazy posture practically screamed bad ass – and a silent challenge no one in their right mind would even think about taking up…

She felt her heart quicken as she watched his lips curl into a mocking smirk – which was coincidentally, currently aimed her way.

Ginny cursed beneath her breath as his gaze settled on her, and she automatically dropped her eyes. Why was she acting like a frightened first year around him again? Nothing had changed between them not really – except for the fact they weren't speaking or snogging at extremely inconvenient intervals…

"Ginny?"

"Huh?" Ginny looked over at the sound of her name and saw her brother watching her with a slight frown. "Sorry – come again?"

"I _thought_ you and Malfoy were history," he commented accusingly.

Glaring at Ron, who glared right back, Ginny shook her head. "Ron, we never _were_ together in the first place, not that it's ever been any of your business."

"Hey," Harry said seriously from his seat next to her, "Let's not start that issue all over again. It's Christmas."

Ginny and Ron exchanged only slightly less annoyed glances before the subject was safely dropped.

"So – what are we doing today?" Ron asked later as they were leaving the hall. "Imagine – we've got an entire day to ourselves! We can go to Hogsmeade, or stay here and play chess – hey, I know! We can go out and have a snowball fight!"

Ginny exchanged a suffering look with Hermione before she said with exaggerated enthusiasm – "Er, sounds _exciting_, really – but I'm afraid yours truly has some last minute gift shopping to do in Hogsmeade."

_"Me too!"_ Hermione blurted, and the three of them turned to stare at her. It was an outright lie – everyone who knew her, knew Hermione had her gifts picked out _well_ before the holidays.

Hermione frowned and then rolled her eyes. "_All right!_ I do _not_ want to spend the day watching you two play chess, okay? I'm going with Ginny." She crossed her arms defensively and turned her nose up in a rather impressive manner that Ginny wished she could achieve.

The two boys looked at each other, shrugged, and walked off.

"Just so you know, Gin – I wear an extra large," Ron called back over his shoulder as he and Harry left.

Hermione scowled as she stepped up beside Ginny to watch their backs. "You do know what he's hinting at, don't you? That Chudley Cannons jersey he saw in Quality Quidditch Supplies the last time we were in Hogsmeade."

"Actually, I thought he was reminding me what size hat to get to fit over his gargantuan sized head! Like I'd ever waste my money on _that_," Ginny announced disgustedly.

Hermione fidgeted beside her and Ginny shook her head. "You bought it for him, didn't you?"

Her friend examined her fingernails closely, but the blush rising on her cheeks gave her away. "I suppose," she mumbled in a very un-Hermione like fashion.

Ginny sighed and wrapped an arm around the older girls shoulders. "You poor thing – he's got you whipped already, and he doesn't even _know_ it!"

"I am not _whipped_, as you so eloquently put it," Hermione responded primly. "You know, sometimes it's not hard to see that you and Ron are actually related in other ways besides looks!"

"I know," Ginny answered with another sigh. "It's a curse, I'm_ tellin _ya'…"

* * *

Perhaps it hadn't been such a great idea to come into Hogsmeade after all, Ginny thought to herself as she sat in the Three Broomsticks across from Hermione. It was growing late, the sky rapidly beginning to darken as the day – and her time – drew to an end. Fat, fluffy flakes of snow were floating heavily on the bitterly cold breeze outside of the windows. It was cozy and warm inside though.

"Don't look so down, Ginny," Hermione said from the opposite side of the booth. "You got everyone a gift – you should be pleased."

_'Everyone but him,'_ Ginny told herself silently. She hadn't told Hermione she'd really been looking for a present for Draco – she wanted to be spared that pitying look her friends face took on whenever she mentioned him.

She wrapped her hands around her mug of sudsy Butterbeer, and stared out the wavy glass window at the festive greenery and scarlet ribbons decorating the shops of Hogsmeade. On every corner a lantern burned a bright, cheery light, and in the shop windows burned numerous candles against the coming evening.

The sight was one of Ginny's favorites, the hustle and bustle of warmly wrapped witches and wizards hurrying about in excitement of the coming holiday.

She couldn't concentrate on the joy of the moment though – she was still distracted by thoughts of Draco. Really, what did one buy a boy who had _everything?_

Well, everything but a family –

**_"THAT'S IT!"_** Ginny exclaimed in a loud, victorious shout, standing up so fast she upset her Butterbeer all over the table and made Hermione yelp.

The crowded tavern went abruptly silent and turned to stare at her, but Ginny was too excited to care. "Come on – we have to get back to the castle!"

Hermione scooted out of the booth with a pale face and tugged on her gloves as Ginny wrapped her scarlet and gold scarf haphazardly around her throat.

"What _is_ it?" She demanded as Ginny collected their packages and threw open the tavern door. "You're acting very strange – " she shivered as the frigid winter air hit them head on.

"I am!" Ginny all but crowed. "I am absolutely, undeniably, certifiably _nutters_ – but _that's it_, Hermione! God, I _wish_ I'd thought of it before!" She hurried down the crowded street, her loose red curls and scarf – not to mention a very confused Hermione – trailing along behind her in the snow.

"Ginny, wait! What are you talking about?"

Ginny paused, breathing hard in the cold air, and grinned back over her shoulder at Hermione, who was struggling through the rapidly deepening snow, sounding out of breath.

A wicked light sparkled in her brown eyes, and an excited flush had risen in her cheeks. Hermione couldn't help but grin back at the ther girl – it had to be the first time in months she'd seen Ginny so – animated.

"You're going to think me _completely_ mad – but I've been thinking, you know, about getting Draco something for Christmas. I mean, he hasn't got anyone to go home to, or send gifts to him, right? I couldn't _not_ get him anything – "

"Of course not," Hermione said agreeably, wondering what had gotten into her friend.

"But, I couldn't find anything! Nothing! All day long, we've been at it, and I couldn't find one single, solitary thing _worthy _of him – "

Hermione had to suppress a heartfelt sigh. Draco Malfoy was such an idiot! Here Ginny was, positively _agonizing_ over the fact that he just had to have a present for Christmas, acting so patently in love and so unselfish it made her _own _chest ache in reaction to the injustice of it all, and he thought she was _immature?_

_" – so simple – "_

Hermione shook her head and stamped her feet to keep her toes warm. He did not deserve Ginny at all…

_" – just owl Mum, she won't mind, after I explain – "_

Really, that Ginny could even think about the wretched boy in a kindly manner after all he'd done was unbelievable!

_" – home, with us!"_

Hermione only just barely managed to catch herself before she tripped over a loose cobblestone in the street and landed in a suspiciously odd colored snow drift.

**_"You_** **_what_**_?"_

* * *

**_"You what?"_**

Two pairs of eyes stared at her dumbly across the hall outside of the Fat Lady's portrait.

"Really dears, do close your mouths, it's most unseemly," the Fat Lady sniffed importantly from her painting.

Ginny grinned unrepentantly at the two boys gawping at her. It was certainly a moment to savor – it wasn't often a girl could shock Harry and Ron into absolute silence.

"I said, I'm inviting Draco to come stay with us at the Burrow for Christmas _and _New Years. And you can shut up before you say it, Ron – I've already owled Mum and Dad, and explained the situation, and they're more than happy to receive him!"

Ron snapped his mouth closed and then shook his fist at her in an almost comical fashion, he was so infuriated.

"The situation? _The situation, Gin?_ How _could_ you? We go home at the holidays to get _away_ from gits of that sort, you know! We already have to deal with him all bloody year long!" He gave his head a violent shake and elbowed the still gaping Harry hard in the ribs. "She's gone _mental_, I'm _tellin'_ ya, _mental!_"

Harry finally blinked, and brought up his hand to rub his sore side. "Ron's right – it's really not fair, Ginny – "

"You know what's really not fair, Harry? And even worse, if it's possible, than growing up with no parents at all? Growing up with parents who treat you like some kind of brainless, emotionless possession! That's what he had to grow up with! He's not really that different from you, you know! He's grown up with absolutely no love in his life, either! At least you had _my_ parents to be there for you!"

"That's wrong, Ginny – Harry is _nothing_ like Malfoy – you can't even begin to compare them! First off, he's in _Slytherin_ – "

"So? It doesn't make him evil!"

"Second, he's an annoying, smug little prick – "

_"Ron!"_

"- and third, he's treated you like dragon dung for months! I know you feel bad for the guy, but Malfoy is a bloody snake, Gin! He'll probably kill us all in our beds – hell, that's probably the plan in the first place!"

Ginny stared at her brother with a scowl. "You _would_ think that! Who's being the annoying little prick now?" She couldn't keep from saying angrily.

_"Ginny!" _Harry was looking at her in disbelief.

She rolled her eyes. "Fine! Look, I'm sorry, but I'm still asking him!"

"What the hell for? I mean, Ginny you're obviously forgetting just who's Dad slipped you a certain diary your first year, you know!"

Ginny shook her head. "He had nothing to do with that!"

Ron's blue eyes narrowed above his freckled cheeks. "How do you know? You remember how he acted that year! Walking about the place as if he _owned _it – "

"He _still_ walks about the place as if he owns it!" Ginny yelled in frustration. "Maybe if _some_ people would give him half a chance – "

"He called Hermione a _Mudblood_, or do you need reminding of that, too?" Shouted Ron angrily.

The Fat Lady snorted delicately at Ron's choice of language.

_"Shut it, the both of you!"_ Harry surprised them both by roaring.

Ginny looked at Harry wide eyed for a moment, feeling lost without her temper to guide her. She tossed her hair over her shoulder, and sighed roughly, and then put her cool palms to her heated cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Harry – I do care about you, you're very dear to me, and your opinion does mean a lot, usually - but I _am_ asking him, so you can just like it or lump it – and as for you Ron – say one nasty word to Draco about this and I'll tell Mum where you _really _hide all those old _Playwizards!_"

Ginny bit back a grin of satisfaction at the sudden blood red look of mortification on her brothers face, and nodded shortly, before walking away down the corridor.

She had the feeling getting Draco to come wasn't going to be as half as easy as that had been…

* * *

"Sure. Why not?"

Ginny, who'd been wincing slightly and holding her breath, let it out with a big gush.

"Really?" She eyeballed the boy who was most likely the instrument of her own destruction, suspiciously. That had been far too easy…

She had found him walking out of the Great Hall, and asked him point blank to come home with her over the holidays. His only reaction had been a tiny widening of the eyes.

Her nerves jangled insanely beneath her skin as he looked down on her with those cold eyes that suddenly didn't seem so very cold at all.

"Yes, really…I always wondered how the 'other half' lived…" he drawled in amusement.

_"Draco – "_ Ginny began in angry exasperation.

"I was only kidding, Gin, really. But I do have to wonder at the sudden change of heart…I thought you were hell bent on hating me."

She looked up at him with a small smile. "And I have to wonder at the speed of your acceptance – I thought you had decided I was 'immature'.

She watched his lips twist, and then he smiled at her ruefully. "I _was_ rather pissed off at the time,"

"Me too," she said. "But, it's Christmas, and I think that we should be able to set aside our differences for a few weeks, don't you?"

Draco gave a small nod.

Ginny gave him another smile, and before she could stop herself, leaned upward to press a kiss to his lean jaw. "Be ready in the morning – I'll meet you in the main hall."

She was already walking away before he could say anything, and it was a good thing too because she barely made it out of sight before her knees gave way and she had to collapse on a bench between classrooms.

She'd actually gone and done it – Draco Malfoy was going to be within touching distance for days, in her own house.

Forget that he'd used her, forget that he 'could' be an arrogant little prick –

Draco was coming _home_ for Christmas!

* * *

Draco stared after Ginny as an all too pleasant tingle raced its way through his body.

He was still in shock that she'd actually invited him to share Christmas with her. He'd hidden it well, sure, but the surprise was still there – and what the bloody hell had possessed him to accept? She obviously felt sorry for him, and he wanted to call her back and tell her that showing him pity was dangerous thing to do, but he didn't.

Christmas was just another day, after all.

Oh, he'd always gotten masses of presents, but he'd always recognized them for being what they were. Pacifiers, a helpful way of keeping him busy, quiet, and out of the way for a time, while keeping up the appearance of caring by giving him whatever he wanted.

Draco swallowed a snort and realized his eyes were still attached to Ginny's gently swaying bottom as she walked quickly away. He cursed and mentally shook himself.

The isolation was finally getting to him. He'd barely spoken a word to anyone in weeks outside of teachers, and he blamed his actions of the evening on that.

It took him a few minutes, but he finally managed to get his straying feelings under control, and wander off in the direction of the dungeons. He nearly ran head on into Professor Snape on the walk down, and then almost walked past the entrance to the Slytherin common room.

Later, in his bed that night, Draco lay pondering the creature that was Ginny Weasley. She was rare, he had to admit – rare in her feelings, in her stubborn but eventual forgiveness, her wit and way of speaking. Her fiery looks were hard to knock as well…

Draco closed his tired eyes and smothered an ignoble yawn – he hadn't wanted

to think of the _other_ thing, either, but his mind was just so naturally devious, so well trained to seek out the possible usefulness of others towards his own ends, that the thought had just popped right into his head.

He felt a lazy, unfriendly smile curl one end of his lips as he began to drift off to sleep.

The holiday at the Burrow would give him the perfect chance to aggravate the hell out of Potter and Weasley – he made a mental note to make sure he ingratiated himself into the parents' good graces – and not only that, as if it wasn't good enough in and of itself, the fact that he was actually 'living' beneath the Weasley's humble little roof would make his father have a raging fit…

Life was _good_ again.

All thanks to Ginny, of course…

* * *

TBC 


	11. Chapter Eleven Its All In The Smirk

**The Dragon Rebels**

**Disclaimer:** Can't I just own a _little_ piece of Draco? Please? No? _Damn. _Oh well. Maybe I'll wander over to the BTVS fandom and see about poor mistreated Spike…:sniff:

**Chapter Eleven** - Its All In The Smirk

* * *

Ginny was having mixed emotions about her decision to invite Draco to the Burrow when she woke up the next morning. She lay there watching the sun come up and lighten the room, aware of a doubting frown creeping onto her face.

It wasn't that she didn't _trust_ him – well, okay, she really _didn't_ trust him…who in their right mind would?

'Who in their _right_ mind would invite Draco Malfoy to stay at their home for the holidays?'

The not so subtle reminder that she'd done just that made her wince slightly. She'd gotten so caught up in it yesterday that her common sense seemed to have flown completely out the window.

Ginny pulled her blankets closer around her as a surge of hope and excitement flared painfully in her chest again. Ugh, she was being completely pathetic – but ignoring Draco didn't work, saying nasty things and throwing nasty looks didn't work either. She was still in love with him, the why of it still being a complete mystery, and try as she might, she couldn't seem to be able to let go of the tiniest possibility that he might come to love her, too.

She couldn't stand the idea of him spending Christmas alone. Hence the invite…

Ginny sighed and sat up. What wouldn't she give to have him tell her he loved her? But that seemed about as likely to happen as Harry defeating Voldemort with one of her brothers fake wands. The thought of Harry facing down the Dark Lord with a wand that suddenly squawked and turned into a rubber chicken made her sigh and shake her head.

Further proof that she was completely losing it.

In love with Malfoy, who, up until just under six months earlier, had been nothing but pale, sneaky, malevolent little rat. It was no wonder everyone thought she was starkers.

It was going to be complete chaos for the next two weeks, and she knew it. Her six brothers would all be home, and more than ready to eviscerate Draco if he so much as sneered their way.

And knowing Draco, he'd most definitely sneer. And smirk.

It was all in the smirk, that infuriating tilt of the lips of his that made her so absolutely brainless. That smirk could freeze her insides or melt her heart…

Ginny rubbed her eyes and hooked two fingers in the braided leather necklace she still wore at her throat. It had become a habit, reaching up to touch that small silver serpent to make sure it was still there – she still mourned the loss of her crystal dragon pendant, but having something Draco had worn so close to his skin took some of the sting out.

She fingered the tiny sharp fangs on the hissing snake and again wondered why he'd given it to her. The thing had been around his neck since the beginning of the year – and she'd been reading way too much into the giving of it, she was sure. She'd thought girlishly at first that it had just been his way of telling her he really did love her – but time and distance had taken care of that. She'd realized at some point he'd left it there as a challenge of sorts, but she'd yet to figure it out. She'd yet to even figure him out!

Ginny saw one of her dorm mates stir and decided to get up and make for the bathroom – it wouldn't hurt to take a bit more care with her appearance today, would it? Not that it had anything to do at all with spending a long train ride with Draco Malfoy…

* * *

By midmorning the students who were leaving were hurrying in dizzying, seemingly pointless patterns throughout the main hall. As usual, the ghostly caroler's were roaming about the halls, and Professor Flitwick was overseeing decorations through it all.

In short it was chaos. Cheery chaos, but chaos all the same.

Ginny's heart was beating madly in her throat as she pulled her suitcase along behind her, hastily sidestepping a glowering Professor Snape who was mumbling something very Scrooge-like beneath his breath as he was forced to navigate the maddening crowd.

The place felt a hundred degrees warmer than usual, though Ginny knew it was her nerves making it seem so – but she did wish she hadn't bothered to toss her scarf around her throat and tug on her gray Hogwarts issue gloves already. She did not want to be all sweaty with Draco around… (A/N: I'm not even gonna touch that one. Ahem … )

She saw Draco standing near the entrance, and was struck by the fact that he could stand around and not even look like he was waiting. She figured he didn't wait very often.

Ginny took a moment to study him; she didn't get to do it often, without him looking right back at her with that knowing smirk. He made an interesting picture that morning especially, set against the background of streamers of holly and mistletoe.

His hair hid the expression on his face, but she could tell by the set of his shoulders that he was getting impatient. She smiled and tilted her head to the side slightly as she leisurely swept her gaze over him.

He wore the same scuffed black boots she'd seen him in all year, the ones she was sure were not in the dress code, which most probably went for the frayed blue denims he usually wore as well. His black cloak hid the exact state of the black jeans he wore today, but Ginny figured they were probably no less ragged even in deference to the freezing weather.

She wondered what her Mum would make of him…

Her curious, appreciative eyes traveled up his chest, rested briefly on the silver and green scarf laying carelessly on either side of his shoulders, and lingered on the strands of silky blonde hair resting there. A slight breeze of cold air that came in from outside as someone opened a door stirred the ends, and then suddenly blew it all completely back.

He was looking right at her.

She actually jumped, she was so startled. Instantly an embarrassed flush rose in her cheeks, and the temperature seemed to reach blistering. She figured she probably resembled a boiled lobster right about then.

He arched a brow and she swallowed in horror. She could read in his eyes what he was thinking, without even having to hear it.

Life was so unfair…

She was saved from having to go over to him all by herself, by the arrival of Hermione and a very unhappy looking Harry and Ron.

Ginny forced a smile to her lips as she said happily, "Hey, you guys – cheer up! We're going home!"

She watched Ron look at Harry out of the corner of his eye. "Think I'd really rather stay here," he muttered gruffly.

Harry nodded slightly in agreement.

Ginny stared at them, visibly deflating. She took a deep breath and then let it out noisily. "All right – what do I have to do to get you guys to be happy again?"

Ron wasted no time in opening his mouth, and Hermione abruptly kicked him in the ankle. Crookshanks, Hermione's ginger colored cat, situated at her feet, took a swipe at Ron's trousers too, through the bars of the cage he was in.

"Ow!" Ron hopped once, and growled at his friend through his teeth. "What the bloody hell was that for?"

Hermione only cut her eyes at him and lifted her chin.

Ron grumbled something beneath his breath and readjusted the backpack slung over his shoulder. "Do you have to bring that beast of yours? I still think that bloody cat is a maniac."

"Of course I have to bring him – he's my pet," Hermione said protectively.

"Well, let's get this over with – just don't expect me to like it."

"Just do me a favor? Only try to be civil," Ginny asked pleadingly.

Her brother only wandered off toward the exit with a grunt of disbelief, Harry shaking his head right beside him.

"That went well," she told Hermione weakly. "You sure you still want to come with us? It might be safer with your parents – who knows if the Burrow will even be standing by this time tomorrow?"

"Nothing will happen that can be that bad," Hermione insisted soothingly.

Ginny looked over to see Ron and Harry stalk right past Draco, and the three boys exchanged extremely dirty looks – Draco sent a rather obscene gesture after her brother's retreating back and Ginny shook her head resignedly.

"Oh well. 'Cry havoc,' and all that," she muttered with a shrug, and stepped forward.

* * *

The snow outside was falling so thickly it was blanketing the students traveling into Hogsmeade on the horse drawn sleighs. The midmorning sky was a sweeping palette of lavender and gray, and the sun was nowhere to be seen.

Ginny, seated next to Hermione and Draco, and across from Harry and Ron, tucked her head down further into her cloak and scarf to escape the sweeping wall of huge white flakes. Every so often a heavy wind would brush over the sides of the sleigh, the chill from it numbing her cheeks and nose. The air might've been cold, but she barely noticed it, half pressed up against Draco as she was.

"Is the train even going to be able to move through this? I can hardly see anything!"

"My glasses are fogging," Harry complained, yanking the frames from his face.

"Hey, maybe Trelawney was right about that blizzard, eh Harry?" She heard Ron call over the noisy jingling of the bells on the horses.

"She said early January, Ron," Hermione responded loudly with a snort. "Honestly, I'll bite my tongue if that old cow actually manages to ever predict anything correctly."

An angry hoot came from the rear of the sleigh, where their luggage was stacked, and Harry twisted around to look at Hedwig who was ruffling her feathers indignantly.

"She wants out," Harry exhaled heavily.

"Well, go on then – let her out." Ron said, frowning at the racket. "She knows her way." He had already sent Pigwidgeon on his way to the Burrow the day before.

"I'm worried about her – what if she gets lost? She might not be able to find her way to the Burrow in all this." Harry responded with obvious reluctance.

Inevitably Draco chose that moment to speak up. "Potter, you are aware she is a Great Snowy Owl, aren't you?" He commented derisively. "This is her element."

Ginny bit her lip, waiting for Harry's reply. Unbelievably, Ron didn't make a peep – she reckoned he was still wary because of the whole Playwizard threat.

"I know what kind of owl she is, Malfoy," Harry responded impatiently. "Unlike you, I happen to give a damn about what happens to her."

Ginny winced and dug her elbow into Draco's side – but he ignored her.

"You sure you're still talking about the bloody owl?" Draco swiftly rejoined, and she wanted suddenly to pull his tongue out.

Hedwig put up a very real, loud protest just then, and the subject was thankfully dropped as Harry turned around in his seat and unlatched the cage door. Hedwig wasted no time in joyfully spreading her wings and disappearing headlong into the snowstorm.

* * *

The Hogwarts Express hurtled through the countryside, down one long, icy length of track after another.

Wind lashed at the sides of the scarlet train, and soon the snow fall became so heavy its occupants could actually hear the sharp, icy flakes collecting on the roof.

Ginny caught herself looking out the window again, and only succeeded in unsettling herself even more – it seemed as if there was nothing out there but varying shades of gray and white.

The fact that she'd always been just the slightest bit claustrophobic didn't help matters. The small compartments on the train had never bothered her, so long as she could look out the windows and see the huge, rolling green countryside and blue sky beyond. But now she couldn't see anything – just the whiteness. It gave her the eerie sensation of being buried alive, like that winter of her seventh year, when she'd climbed to the top of that mountainous snowdrift just outside the limits of Ottery St. Catchpole at Ron's dare, and had fallen straight through the dangerously powdery snow and nearly suffocated before she'd been rescued by her father.

Feeling slightly panicked at the memory, Ginny took a deep breath, and forced herself to look away from the window. Ron and Harry were playing Exploding Snap across from her, Hermione was lost in a book, and Draco was busy looking bored, reclining back against the cushions with arms crossed, watching the other occupants of the compartment from beneath his lashes.

The scene may have looked like a relaxed one, but the tension in the air was apparent – Ron and Harry kept shooting Draco looks of distrust, Draco would smirk, and then Hermione would shift uncomfortably every few moments.

Everyone looked miserable, save Draco, of course – and it made Ginny feel downright rotten. The glee she'd felt the night before was slowly leaving her as she thought of her brothers' expressions when she led a Malfoy though the door.

Ron suddenly cursed as his fingers got singed, and Draco snorted softly beside her.

She'd tried to get the others to find a separate compartment, but Ron had been adamant about keeping her in sight and 'Malfoy' within hexing distance. She wasn't surprised by her brother's protectiveness. She also knew better than to trust herself alone with Draco – but deep down, she knew that was exactly what she wanted.

Ginny gave a small shiver within her cloak and saw Draco turn his head to look at her.

"Cold, Gin?" He made as if to hand her his discarded cloak.

The three others in the room looked up automatically as he spoke.

"Here – take my cloak," Ron said quickly, throwing the heavy black garment at her with undignified haste. It smacked her in the face, and Ginny yanked the worn fabric away with a scowl.

"Why thank you, Ron," she forced out sweetly between her teeth. "But I think Draco was just going to offer me the use of his. I'd hate to be rude. Why don't you take it Hermione? You look like you're freezing."

Ron turned red and looked at Hermione apologetically for not having noticed sooner. "Oh, er…right. Sorry 'Mione."

Hermione's mouth fell open and Ginny hid a sly grin as she threw the cloak at her. It settled across her lap, and she swallowed, looking from it to Ron to Ginny in consternation.

Draco arched a brow at Ginny, and dutifully handed her his cloak.

"Thank you," she told him with a grin, and curled up on the seat beneath it, leaning her head back on the seat.

Ginny closed her eyes to Harry and Ron's glares, and took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of Draco that rose from the heavy, expensive, sinfully soft cloak. In moments the rocking motion of the train had her drifting off to sleep with a contented sigh.

* * *

Draco watched Granger nod off over her book a few minutes after Ginny had gone to sleep. The girls head was now resting handily on Weasley's shoulder – and Ron was looking distinctly ill at ease.

Enjoying the other boy's discomfiture, Draco stifled a bored yawn and stole a look at Ginny's sleeping figure from the corner of his eye. The sight of her red curls splayed out across his cloak made his gut clench in reaction.

"Don't think I don't know what you're up to, Malfoy," Ron suddenly informed him in a steely voice.

Draco looked at the redhead through hooded eyes. "And just what is that, Weasley?" He sat forward with an amused smirk. "Think I'm going to 'ruin' your sister?"

"I don't suggest you try it," Harry muttered.

Draco glanced at him. "What if she wants to be 'ruined', Potter?" He asked in a mock conspirators whisper. "What if…she already has been?"

He laughed at the fury on the other boys faces, and shook his head as they grabbed for their wands.

"Anything from the trolley, dears?" Came a familiar voice from the corridor.

Draco watched as the two friends glanced from him to the old woman outside the door. They very reluctantly lowered their wands, looking deflated, and he barely managed to contain a victorious smirk.

By the time the boys had finished conducting business with the woman, he'd very conveniently rested back against the cushions and closed his eyes, looking the very picture of someone harmlessly sleeping.

He heard Ron snort in disgust, and then, a few minutes later, growl something unintelligible when Ginny's head slid down to rest on his shoulder, and she curled instinctively towards him. "Bloody bugger…"

His smug outlook was promptly spoiled when one of Ginny's hands, still hidden beneath his cloak, came to innocently rest in his lap in her sleep. He felt his body's swift reaction and bit back a groan.

Ron Weasley was going to kill him dead.

* * *

Ginny woke up reluctantly as she felt the train slow. Her head was pillowed on something hard, but it smelled so good and felt so deliciously warm -

"Bloody hell…"

She opened her eyes and felt them widen as she realized the position she was in. Something tickled her nose.

Her head was pillowed on Draco's shoulder – and the something tickling her nose was Draco's hair!

Ginny immediately used her hand as leverage to sit up, and heard Draco catch his breath painfully. Startled, she also realized where her hand was – some place hot and hard, and most definitely out of bounds –

"Sorry!" She squealed in embarrassment, and jerked her hand away as if it were burnt. She sat upright, pushed her hair out of her face, and rubbed her tingling palm on her thigh nervously.

But Draco's eyes were still closed, and his breathing was even, though his color was unusually high. He was asleep.

Ginny watched the boy for a long minute, noting how different he looked, how unguarded and vulnerable. It couldn't be possible for someone to look as perfect as he did in that moment. She wanted to reach up and run her hand along his jaw, and feel his warm lips pressed softly against hers again…it had been far too long -

Hermione made a groaning noise across from them and Ginny looked over wide eyed – but the other girl was just waking up – and Ron and Harry were still snoozing.

Hermione seemed to have realized her head had been resting very comfortably on Ron's shoulder, and she straightened up immediately with a violent blush. She caught Ginny looking at her and offered up a commiserating smile.

The train eventually came to a stop, and Ginny prodded Draco's shoulder hesitantly. "Hey – sleeping beauty. Wake up. We're here."

The boy sighed, and then his sleep clouded, glinting silvery eyes drifted open lazily, making her heart miss a beat.

"Damn," he muttered, sitting up and stretching. "I hadn't meant to fall asleep like that."

"Me either," Ginny said under her breath as she recalled how she'd woken up.

"We here already?" Harry said, yawning, as he stood up and pulled on his jacket, tucking his cloak away.

"Ron, better get up now – where's your jacket?" Hermione was pulling on her long wool Muggle coat, and prodding him to wakefulness.

"I'm awake," he grumbled, and rubbed his eyes.

Ginny pulled off her own cloak, packed it away, and handed Draco's back to him with a shy thank you. She couldn't help it.

Draco took it without a word, and lazily tugged on the black leather jacket she'd seen him carrying on the first ride to school at the beginning of the year.

Ginny gulped at the sight of him dressed all in black, from the jacket to the ribbed black jumper, belt, jeans and boots. Fearing she might actually start drooling, she hurried herself into her somewhat ratty, and patched up wool lined green jumper. She pulled the zipper up the front and yanked on her gloves as she followed the others out of compartment, and then out onto the chilly platform.

Her Mum was waiting for them, and gave an embarrassingly loud cry of joy when she saw them.

Molly Weasley caught Ron up in a hug as soon as he reached her, and Ginny met his rolling eyes with her own just before she was treated to the same.

As embarrassed as she was, Ginny hugged her Mum back, and couldn't deny the sense of security she felt at being in her embrace, smelling the same old lavender perfume the woman had always worn.

Harry and Hermione were swiftly caught up in similar hugs, and just when Ginny thought her Mum would stop and hesitate awkwardly, she turned right to a very surprised looking Draco, and squeezed him in a right motherly fashion as well.

Ginny shared a grin with Hermione – she should have known better than to think her Mum would slight a boy without a home.

"Enter Molly Weasley – mother to the world!" Hermione whispered laughingly into her ear as Draco was at last released, and stood looking at Molly in dazed surprise.

"At least I know how to get him to shut up, now," Ginny whispered back, shaking her head at the absurdity of it all.

The group was surprised and pleased to learn that instead of heading to the Burrow straightaway, they would be going to Diagon Alley for a quick visit before returning to The Leaky Cauldron and using Floo powder to arrive home. The question of their luggage was quickly solved by Molly's quick use of a shrinkage charm, which enabled them to tuck their things away in their pockets. Crookshanks was another problem entirely – but Hermione just held the cat in her arms as they traveled along.

Ginny followed her Mum through the tavern soon after they exited the Underground at Paddington Station, and waved a greeting to Tom before she realized everyone present was staring at her – no, not at her, after all.

They were staring at Draco, who had a deceptively petulant look on his face, his eyes shadowed by the wavering torchlight.

Apparently the news of his being formally disowned had traveled throughout the Wizarding community…and it was doubtless just as scandalous seeing the young former heir to the Malfoy fortune following in the steps of Molly Weasley.

Molly hurried her 'brood' quickly through the dimly lit place, sensing the discomfort of the others, and then through the entrance into Diagon Alley.

Ginny walked behind with Draco, hard pressed not to take his hand in hers. He was getting more stares than even Harry usually did – but something told her that for once he wasn't happy about the attention.

Diagon Alley was crowded, even more so than usual it seemed, and though it was freezing, the snow wasn't falling as heavily here. The icy patches on the cobblestones and the massive amounts of people wandering about made for slow going, though.

Molly at last paused with them in front of Gringott's, and began nervously tugging at her red curls and neatening her worn clothes. "Why don't you lot go off and have a look around? I have some – er, business to take care of, inside. I'll meet you back at the entrance in an hour."

Ginny sighed and began to turn away. It was always some worry or another about money…she hated that her Mum was clearly worrying about providing a decent Christmas for them all. She also hated being poor, but it wasn't as if she was bothered about presents. She was happy just to be with her family for the holidays.

It was then that Draco stepped forward and she frowned at him questioningly.

"I'll believe I'll come with you, Mrs. Weasley," he announced in a too charming voice. "I have some business to conduct as well."

Harry and Ron looked at the other boy skeptically. Neither really wanted to see Ron's Mum go off several hundred feet beneath London, alone with a Malfoy and a greedy, beady eyed little Goblin.

Molly however, smiled brightly and nodded, her round cheeks flushing slightly. "All right then." She turned back on her children with a stern look. "An hour, mind you! I'll be right back!" As usual, her words sounded more like a warning than a reminder.

Draco and her mother walked off into Gringott's, and Ginny was left staring after them, watching her breath puff in white clouds in the frigid air. It was too surreal, seeing her Mum just so immediately taken with Draco. How many times had she heard her complain about the Malfoy's in the past?

"This is too weird to contemplate," Ginny announced finally. She had expected her Mum to greet Draco as she would any guest – but she hadn't really, truthfully thought she would. She'd been waiting for a bit off a standoff – but it had never resulted.

"You're telling me, it's weird…wait until Dad sees this," Ron answered, stepping up beside her. "That git had to be using some kind of charm."

"Right – Malfoy charm," Ginny sighed, having been the direct recipient of it more than once. "I wonder if his dad was like this too?"

"Ew," Hermione exclaimed with a shudder. "I mean, can you see your Mum acting all mushy around Lucius Malfoy?"

She wrinkled her nose at the thought – but from another point of view, Lucius Malfoy was just as good looking as his son, if only a good bit older…and evil. She looked over at Hermione and saw that the girl was thinking something along those same lines herself.

"'The wrapping is nice, but the candy is spoilt,'" Ginny and Hermione said together, making faces.

"Not you too!" Ron yelled at Hermione, who blushed and shrugged. "What is it with the bloody Malfoy's this year? Do I have to charm my hair blond just get some respect around here?"

Envisioning Ron with platinum blond hair and red eyebrows and freckles caused the two girls to explode into a fit of giggles. Crookshanks growled low in his throat at Ron, his ears flattening.

"Who's up for a Butterbeer? My treat," Harry suddenly croaked, sounding as if he'd really rather have something a bit stronger.

"How about four?" Ron replied weakly, and resolutely walked off with Harry.

Ginny and Hermione followed behind, Ginny still giggling, and contemplating turning Ron's hair blond for New Years.

"I can't believe your Mum fancies Malfoy," Hermione mentioned later as she and Ginny stood looking in the window outside of Quality Quidditch Supplies.

"She doesn't fancy him," Ginny said defensively. "Do you have any idea how _old_ my Mum is?"

"Yes, positively _ancient_," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "Well, you can stand here freezing your bum off, gazing at the racing brooms all you want – I'm going to walk down to Flourish And Blott's. I hear they're having a Christmas sale today. I'll meet you at the entrance in a bit, all right?" Crookshanks squirmed in her arms with an impatient yowl.

Ginny waved Hermione on absently, mentally drooling over the silvery Firebolt 450 suspended in the display window. Her bum was getting a bit numb, but she could stand there staring at the perfection of that broom for hours.

'State-Of-The-Art…' Ginny's eyes skimmed the announcement in the window curiously.

'…an acceleration speed of up to 200 miles in ten seconds…' "Wow." '…braking charm…"

"Price on request," she read aloud with a snort. No point in asking about that. The broom probably cost more than her Dad made at the Ministry in an entire year!

Ginny head familiar voices and lifted her head.

She could see in the reflection behind her that Harry and Ron had just exited Gambol And Japes Wizarding Joke shop grinning madly, their spirits apparently restored. Their pockets were stuffed full with things, and when they caught sight of her standing at the window, they headed straight for her.

They stepped up beside her and looked in the window as well.

"Bloody hell – ain't that a beauty," Ron breathed, staring at the broom in awe.

Ginny could practically see the two boys foaming at mouth. "Don't worry, Ron," she said dryly, "Harry will probably have one within a few weeks, now that he's laid eyes on it." Of course she was only joking – but Harry did seem to have a talent for getting his hands on the fastest, most expensive brooms available.

"Yeah, Harry – you'd have Malfoy face down in the dirt with one of those," Ron commented pointedly.

"I don't need a broom to do that," Harry muttered defensively, though he was giving the Firebolt 450 a look of longing.

"I'm going to go wait for Mum," Ginny said unexpectedly, stalking away.

Harry and Ron looked after her. Ginny looked very small and very vulnerable suddenly, huddled against the wind and snow, sidestepping the crowds of last minute shoppers who were much taller than she.

"What does she see in that bloody git?" Ron muttered, shaking his head in disgust. "I mean, doesn't she know he's obviously only after one thing?" His eyes caught on something else in the window, and he pointed excitedly, goggling at his best friend. "Hey Harry, look! It's a Quaffle signed by every member of the Chudley Cannons!"

But Harry was too busy watching after Ginny, his green eyes solemn and thoughtful behind his glasses.

* * *

Draco walked into Gringott's with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

Even the goblins were quick to move from his path as he followed Molly Weasley along the long marble hall, looking deceptively docile.

Molly paused before a free goblin and whispered to it behind her hand. The goblin was not quite so quiet in his response.

"Mrs. Weasley," the sharp eyed little Goblin replied in a low, rough voice, "I am indeed sorry to say this (he didn't look very sorry at all to Draco) but though we here at Gringott's have the utmost respect for your family, (Draco snorted at this) I am afraid we cannot extend you any further credit."

Draco watched the older woman's shoulders droop slightly before she straightened them and leaned forward to speak again. "But I don't understand – Arthur just finished repaying the loan – "

"Be that as it may Mrs. Weasley, we have been instructed – "

"But- "

"We have other customers, Mrs. Weasley, you'll understand. Quickly, if you please…" The goblin made an impatient motion for her to step aside.

"I understand very well," Molly replied in a worn but proud voice, the color high on her cheeks showing her embarrassment. She extracted a small tarnished silver key from her handbag and gave it to the goblin. "I will need to visit the vault."

The goblin eyed the woman with a skepticism bordering on rudeness, clearly doubting that she could possibly have anything at all left in her vault, and the nodded tersely. "Griphook!"

Another small goblin appeared instantly, and prepared to lead her through the door behind the counter – but Molly stopped him.

"I'm here with Mr. Malfoy – we'll be going down together, I expect," she said tersely.

Draco smirked in dark amusement as half the goblins within hearing distance stopped what they were doing to stare at her, and then at him.

He stepped up to the counter as if he owned the place, and as he'd been expecting, the goblin smiled nastily. Clearly he was looking forward to denying him access to the Malfoy family vault after having to put up Draco's bratty demands and incessant use of funds over the years.

"Mr. Draco Malfoy," he greeted him frostily. "I'm afraid your father – "

Draco pulled a heavily jeweled gold key from his pocket and tossed it carelessly onto the marble counter where it landed with a tinkling clatter that echoed throughout the suddenly silent hall. "Vault 397..."

The goblins eyes widened in disbelief behind his tiny spectacles, and Draco felt a small, cold smile curl his lips.

He then allowed his expression to suddenly go flat and brittle, as he watched the goblin twitch nervously with immense satisfaction. "But first, I'd like a private word."

And then to settle the dagger a bit deeper…

"Quickly…If you please."

* * *

TBC

Thanks all who reviewed last chapter!


	12. Chapter Twelve The Art Of Intimidation

**The Dragon Rebels**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

(**A/N:** Thanks to Arlyta and Sneef, who I missed thanking last chappy! You are so very much appreciated! Thanks again everyone! Hope you like this! Lee)

**Chapter Twelve -** The Art Of Intimidation

* * *

Draco watched as Molly entered the rather small, nondescript vault they arrived at. It was sickening, the amount of money he watched the woman sweep into her bag – the whole lot of what there was to take – a few gold galleons, a small pile of bronze knuts, and an even smaller pile of silver sickles. 

It wouldn't have bought even one bottle out of one of the cases of expensive wine for the Christmas dinner parties his parents were so fond of throwing.

Draco was surprised at the anger he felt at thought of his parents excessiveness, compared to the Weasley's. Ginny had probably never had a proper Christmas in her entire life – but who was he to think that, after all? What idea did he have about what was a normal Christmas and what wasn't?

Moreover, why did he even bloody care?

He noticed Griphook staring at him, and he stared back unblinkingly until the goblin dropped his eyes. Bloody goblins – thinking he was nothing because he'd been disowned. They had no idea who the hell they were dealing with. Thought his 'Daddy' still ruled over him, did they? Thought he was nothing without his father's money…they should have known better, name or no, that he was the sort who warranted complete and utter respect…

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's move on."

Draco clamped down on his anger and moved over slightly as Molly Weasley sat down beside him, and Griphook started the cart off again.

After a few minutes of traveling through darkness with the cool air chilling his face, his temper drew itself down a few inches. Not nearly enough, though. He kept glaring at Griphook and it was making the usually unruffable little goblin extremely nervous.

Soon the cart slowed to a stop at the entrance of a pitch black tunnel.

"Why are we stopping?" Molly asked with a frown.

Draco didn't have to bother answering, because in that moment a blast of hot air followed by a burst of silver and green flame shot out of the darkness right over their heads. In the brief light, one could make out the glittering opal eyes of a fifty foot dragon with iridescent scales, perched just inside the entrance, clearly guarding the vault – which was Draco's destination.

"Oh dear," Molly whispered fretfully, staring into the now dark tunnel with wide eyes.

Draco however, only stood up in the cart, held out his left hand palm up, and calmly murmured something that sounded like Latin.

_"Evanesco Latenter…"_

The tunnel became lit with a dim light, and the massive dragon lowered its fierce head, and stepped aside to let the cart pass.

Draco held back a smile as he noted Molly Weasley holding her breath as they passed the now acquiescent Opal-Eye. The cart traveled downwards for perhaps a mile before it finally stopped, and he stepped out to stand before a huge gold and silver chased set of double doors.

Griphook stepped up beside him, and inserted the heavy gold key into its elaborate lock. He then gave it a harsh twist, and looked up at Draco pointedly.

"The password, please?"

Draco sighed. "Oh. I'd forgotten about that." And he had. It had been nearly seven years since his grandmother had brought him to this magnificent vault, and told him it would all be his someday…

"Opulente," he told the goblin with a slight grimace. Trust his overbearing, incredibly old-world aristocratic grandmother to have used a password that screamed prosperity and riches. For some unknown reason it bothered him to be flaunting his inherited wealth in front of Molly Weasley.

The magical wards protecting the entrance fell away, and the intricate workings of the locks moving inside the doors could be heard for long moments, until, at last, they swung open silently.

The gleam of the millions of galleons and chests of jewels neatly piled inside the massive vault nearly blinded him.

Molly gasped from behind him in obvious awe, and he stepped into the vault with an unimpressed glance around, feeling suddenly worthless.

What was the use of owning the largest vault in the Wizarding world – aside from his father's of course – when he had only himself to spend it on.? It wasn't as if he didn't already own everything he could ever have possibly wanted…

Draco eyed a ruby, emerald and diamond encrusted gold ring, one he recalled his grandmother wearing often, and caught himself wondering if it would fit on Ginny's finger.

Before he could give it another thought, he rolled his eyes, picked up the ring in it's black satin lined box, and snapped the lid shut, stuffing it roughly in the pocket of his jacket. He then impatiently snatched up one of many small, heavy black leather bags near the entrance, ignoring the gold jingling inside, and left the King Midas of all vault's with a purposeful stride.

They were being shown back to the main hall of Gringott's when the snide little goblin who'd waited on them before called out Molly's name.

"Mrs. Weasley! A word, madam…please!"

Draco paused and turned slightly to watch over his shoulder, as the frowning, but curious Mrs. Weasley turned back toward the long counter, and the suddenly unctuous Gringott's goblin.

The goblin met Draco's flat, pale eyes with an uneasy glance, and then returned his attention to what he was saying to Mrs. Weasley.

Draco smirked in satisfaction, and turned back toward the entrance – he'd meet her outside.

It was truly amazing what a bit of skill with intimidation and a vault full of galleons could do…

Fortunately, he'd been born with both.

* * *

Ginny was in a fairly bad mood when Harry, Hermione, and Ron finally appeared back at the entrance to Diagon Alley – but her Mum and Draco were nowhere to be seen. 

"An hour my arse," Ron was grumbling, hunching his shoulders slightly against the wind.

"Don't talk about bum's," Ginny groaned, wishing she had a longer coat. "Mine is about to freeze off…"

"Where are they?" Hermione even asked in exasperation a few icy minutes later.

"I knew it wasn't a good idea, those two going off together – " Harry began, but then cut himself off as Molly Weasley and Draco appeared out of the swirling snow.

"Mum! Where have you been? We've been turning into snow cones, here!" Ginny exclaimed in a fit of temper.

But her mother was only smiling, glowing with happiness – or at least the part of her that Ginny could see over the pile of brown wrapped packages in her arms.

Frowning in disbelief, Ginny looked over at Draco, who was looking at her smugly, one eyebrow arched over yet another load of packages in his arms.

"Oy, Mum! Did you win the bloody lottery again?" Ron asked, clearly startled.

"Not nearly anything as good as that," Molly told them. "Don't you worry about it, dearest. We just had a stroke of luck, is all. Here, carry some of this, Harry, Ron, will you?"

Harry and Ron took most of the load off of her hands with matching looks of bewilderment.

Ginny took an armload of things from Draco, and followed behind the others as they exited Diagon Alley.

"What did you do?" She hissed at the tall boy walking beside her, her brown eyes narrowed suspiciously.

Draco looked down at her, the picture of innocence. "Why Ginny, I have no idea what you're insinuating."

Ginny paused before they entered The Leaky Cauldron, and pulled him to a stop with a jerk on his jacket sleeve.

"Do you have any idea what Ron, or even the rest of my family would do if they knew you had bought Christmas? And don't deny it, Draco – I know Mum and Dad could never have afforded all this!"

Draco cocked his head back and sighed roughly. "Ginny, I did not buy Christmas for your family, why would I?"

"Exactly what I'm wondering!"

"Ginny, I didn't do anything."

"Why don't I believe you?"

"I'll tell you exactly what happened, then. The goblins decided to extend your parents a further credit, and it's as simple as that."

Ginny shook her head. "Draco, they'd never do that. Mum and Dad have been having problems all year with those grasping little creatures – "

"Yes? Well, they won't be having any more," Draco stated, his voice wintry.

"What did you do? Bribe them?"

"Not at all. I simply insinuated that perhaps my money would be better looked after else where – "

"Draco!" Ginny gasped. "Are you insane? There isn't anywhere else! And besides, Mum and Dad could never afford to pay back a loan of this obvious size! Not with the amount of interest those little buggers charge – "

"There isn't any interest, Gin. Look, don't worry about it. I know your parents will repay every sickle – "

"You're loaning it to them? Without interest! Oh great!" Ginny shouted in embarrassment.

"Quiet, Weasley. She doesn't know!" Draco hissed. "She's just assuming they changed their minds, it being Christmas and all – "

"Oh, Draco, how could you?" Ginny moaned, envisioning the look on her father's face should he ever find out. And Ron –

"I was trying to ensure you had a decent holiday!" Draco snapped, his eyes growing angry. "It seemed right, seeing as you were nice enough to invite me into your home!"

Ginny stared up at him with a sigh, and let her shoulders slump. "We can talk about this later. I'm cold." She turned away and walked into the tavern with a sigh.

Draco followed her with a clenched jaw, wondering what in the hell had possessed him to think she'd ever appreciate a 'kind' gesture from him.

He made a metal note not to bother again.

* * *

The first thing Draco noticed when he arrived by Floo powder at the Burrow, was that it smelled strongly of mulled cider and cinnamon. 

He found himself taking a deep breath of the heavenly scent as he stepped out of the fireplace and dusted himself off.

Ginny took his jacket, and moved across the living room to hang it on a peg beside the door with the others.

His eyes took in the rambling sets of rooms, and crooked hallways – and as he'd expected, the furnishings were well worn, mismatched, and outmoded – but it was one of the warmest, coziest looking places he'd ever seen in his life.

The overstuffed sofas and chairs situated about the living room seemed to beg one to sit – and the soft, ancient carpet covering the worn, softly creaking wooden floor near the fireplace looked very inviting. Especially with the huge velvety looking pillows tossed about it near a low table displaying an ancient chess set.

"Mum!"

Draco turned his head swiftly as he saw Fred and George Weasley duck into the room – the twins, obviously – followed by two older looking men.

Molly Weasley nearly dropped every one of her packages as her sons took turns hugging her and swinging her about as if they hadn't seen her in ages.

From the looks of the ones called Bill and Charlie, he imagined it was entirely possible.

"Aw, look, it's our 'ittle Ronniekins, home from school!" One of the twins grabbed Ron up in a bear hug, and ruffled his head hard with his knuckles.

"Oy! Geroffme!"

Molly, flustered by all the attention, plucked off her coat and handed it to Ginny who dutifully hung it up. "Oh, but where's Percy?" She asked in soft disappointment.

The one called Fred – or was it George? – told her, "Where do you think? He's still in London, working."

"Yeah, but he said he'll be along by dinnertime," the other twin added with a grin. "Takes time to wipe all the brown off his nose, Y'know," he told Ron in a loud whisper

Ron coughed, and turned away while their mother sent them a disapproving frown.

"All right you lot, that's enough – Ginny, show Harry, Hermione and Draco to their rooms. The rest of you can help me carrying this stuff into the kitchens – and no peeking!"

"Draco?" Four male voices exclaimed at once, their tones ranging from shock to outright dismay.

Draco bit back a smile as Ginny instinctively put herself before him.

"Fred, George – you already know Draco. Charlie, Bill – this is Draco Malfoy. He's my guest for the holidays," Ginny announced in a forthright manner.

The four men exchanged confused looks. "Er – right," said the oldest looking one with the fang earring and long red ponytail. He stepped forward and extended his hand, which was sun browned and rough from hours of outdoor work. "I'm Bill. Er…it's…nice to meet you."

Draco took his hand and made sure to return the killer grip. "Likewise," he responded coolly.

"I'm Charlie," the other brother muttered brusquely, shaking Draco's hand with a large one shiny with burn scars.

Draco gave a short nod in return.

"Oh, right – Malfoy." The twins said in unison, their tones dry. "Positively spiffing to see you," said George – or was it Fred?- in mock pleasure.

Ginny scowled and grabbed Draco's hand, which surprised him almost as much as it obviously did the others, though he kept it better hidden. She spun around, and dragged him off through the room, out into a narrow hall, and then up a set of crooked stairs.

"Well that tears it," he heard one of the twins say behind him in a regretful tone. "I say we send Ginny off to St. Mungo's – after Christmas, of course."

"Of course," his brother added wisely.

"Don't listen to them," Ginny told Draco as she pulled him along, and then paused in front of a door.

She opened it up, and Draco was hard pressed not wince away from the sight.

"Jesus, Gin – tell me I'm not expected to sleep in here? It'll be like having the lights on all bloody night!"

The room before him contained three beds, all crammed in, and the walls – dear god. They were a bright, blinding, sickening shade of orange, obviously painted to match the worn Chudley Cannons bedspread on one of the beds.

"Let me guess – I'm bunking with your brother and Potter," he said with an air of finality.

"Yep," Ginny said, sighing. "You can leave your stuff here – but be careful of anything you let out of your sight, especially with Fred and George around," she warned.

"Somehow I already figured that one out," Draco murmured wryly, pulling his things from his pockets – his luggage automatically returned to its normal size as he laid it upon one of the beds.

"I'll show you the bathroom," Ginny told him, and he followed her back out into the hall.

A door opposite Ron's bedroom was open, and he took a look inside as Ginny moved ahead of him.

"This your room, Gin?" It was small, had a slanted ceiling of cracked plaster, painted a gruesome shade of pink, and decorated with dragons, of all things… There were stuffed dragons, dragon statuettes, dragon prints that flapped their wings and blew fire, and unbelievably, black dragon printed curtains that were drawn against the dim light outside. All in all it was a very odd room…and it seemed to explain a lot about Ginny Weasley…

Ginny hastily turned back on him with a blush, and shut the door. "Yes – not that you need to know where it is."

Draco smirked and reached out to slip a finger down the neck of her jumper, pulling his necklace out and rubbing a finger over the snake.

"Fancy dragon's do you?" He asked, keeping his voice soft.

He watched her eyes go warm and was just about to lean in to kiss her when he was jostled roughly from behind.

"Oh – sorry. Didn't see you there, Malfoy," Ron growled as he and Harry passed to go into his room.

Ginny pulled away from him, hurriedly tucking his necklace back under her collar. "Come on – bathrooms this way."

Draco glared at the back of Ron's head as he and Harry entered his room, biting his tongue in an effort to still the insult that rose to it.

His eyes caught sight of Ginny'sbottom as she walked before him, and he sent a considering look at the boy's door.

There'd be time enough later to show Weasley he'd better watch who he was shoving.

* * *

"Ow! Why you - " 

"George Weasley! You stop that this instant!"

"He poked me in the arse with the fire iron!"

"I don't care if he hit you in the head with a hammer! Stop it!"

"But Mum – "

There was a loud crash from the direction of the kitchen, and Draco looked up from where he was sitting with Ginny and Hermione on the floor before the fireplace, reading.

"Don't worry – it's always like that around here," Hermione commented around a yawn, her cheeks pink from being so near the fire. Crookshanks, her god awful ugly cat, was curled up on a pillow beside her, it's bottle-brush tail twitching in its sleep.

"Yep – just wait until Percy shows up – it'll get worse," Ginny added knowingly.

"When will your father be home?" He found himself asking out of the blue.

"Ah – nervous are you?" Ginny asked, her eyes twinkling.

"Nervous," Draco scoffed. "Of course not. I was just being curious."

"Hm," the little redhead replied. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, looking thoughtful, and then laid her book aside with a yawn. "I'm bored."

Draco wasn't bored at all, which came as a complete surprise to him. He was warm, a near impossible feat to accomplish, and nearly content reclining against the pillows strewn out on the floor, listening to the girls giggle and the fire snap. He'd stripped off his jumper earlier, it had grown so warm.

"Let's go up to your room," Hermione suggested, book marking her page. "I'll show you what I got everyone for Christmas."

"You just want me to help you wrap," Ginny countered with a grin that made Draco's chest ache slightly.

"I beg your pardon – I've already wrapped yours," Hermione replied snootily.

The girl's stood up, and then Granger surprised him by looking back and asking, "Malfoy? Aren't you coming?"

A long, slow smile crossed his lips as he saw Ginny shoot the other girl a dirty look that promised pay back.

"Why not?" He stood up, stretching, taking the opportunity to make sure Ginny got a good look at his abs through the tight black t-shirt he was wearing.

Hermione even stared appreciatively before Ginny poked her hard in the shoulder, and they set off up the stairs.

* * *

Someone was teasing him – and they were enjoying it immensely. 

Draco was sprawled out lazily across Ginny's bed, surrounded by fluffy dragons and tattered lace edged pillows infused with the scent of her.

He was on his stomach, thankfully, so that hid his reaction to the naughty thoughts he was having about Ginny coming over to join him on the soft, narrow little bed –

He cleared his throat uncomfortably, but the two girls were too involved in their treasures, sitting across from him on the other bed that had been placed there for Hermione's use, to notice.

Draco pillowed his head on his hand with a rough sigh, and looked away, only to see a little stuffed hand puppet of a silver dragon staring at him with an insane, toothy grin. He frowned in disgust. The things eyes were yellow, and they were crossed.

Draco pulled the puppet toward him, and rose up on his elbows, examining it more closely. It was fraying at the seams, and had a weak growl that emitted when you worked your hand inside it to make it talk. What the hell kind of toy was that? What was the big deal about that? It seemed like an incredibly boring toy to him…

Ginny paused in what she was saying to Hermione when she caught sight of Draco frowning at on of her favorite childhood toys, a plush hand puppet of what else – a dragon - that Charlie had brought her from Romania years earlier.

She nudged Hermione, and then jerked her head towards the spectacle. Maybe she should warn him…

Hermione stifled a giggle and watched as Draco somehow managed to work his large hand into the puppet and made it open it's fanged mouth wide…

"Bloody hell!"

Both girls shrieked with laughter as the toy breathed a huge, harmless but foul smelling flame of orange fire and red sparks out of its mouth at him.

Draco dropped the offending dragon, startled, and wrinkled his nose. The air in the room now smelled heavily of brimstone.

Ginny was still laughing outright, clutching her side.

A pair of pale gray eyes slid towards her, and quick minded Hermione jumped out of the way just in time to avoid Draco, who pounced on Ginny and began tickling her mercilessly.

Of course Ginny was exceptionally ticklish, and started screaming at him to stop, in between breathless giggles.

"Ginny! What the hell – "

Harry and Ron crashed through the door, looking furious, and Hermione shook her head at them.

Ginny, not noticing them, continued to squeal as Draco dug his fingertips into her sides.

Harry and Ron looked at each other, scowling, but both realized they hadn't seen Ginny laugh that much in months, if not longer.

Draco finally let up on Ginny in the meantime, and the girl rolled into a sitting position, brushing her tangled hair out of her flushed face.

"Draco Malfoy! You rat! My stomach hurts now, are you happy?"

Draco, who just noticed the arrival of the other two boys, leaned forward, smacked her soundly on the lips, and stood up lazily. "Ecstatic," he told her with a sly smile.

Ginny looked up, froze, and groaned. "Don't start you two," she directed towards Harry and Ron. "He was just – "

"Helping us wrap gifts," supplied Hermione quickly. "And you aren't supposed to see them! Shoo!"

Harry and Ron rolled their eyes, but left after sending Draco a warning look.

Ginny sighed as the door clicked shut.

Draco moved to lean up against the door, and crossed his arms.

"You don't have to look so smug" Ginny told him crossly, flipping her hair. "They still want to murder you."

Draco shrugged. "Certainly it wasn't a kiss worth dying for, but – I'm sure you'd remedy that before they took my head off, right?" His eyes glinted at her teasingly.

Ginny looked from him to Hermione helplessly. Her expression was screaming, 'Please don't leave me alone with him!'

"Er – I, uh…I think I hear Dad. Let's go see…"

* * *

TBC 


	13. Chapter Thirteen Dinner With The Weasley

**The Dragon Rebels **

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

(**A/N:** Hey there. Just wanted to make a note – I have nothing against Percy, I love him to death – so that's why I'm picking on him, lol. The following discussion was inspired by a one liner I caught on a re-run of _Everybody Loves Raymond_ a few days back. I never watch it, usually, but I was waiting for something (Buffy, hee)to come on anyway. I thought it would be hysterical to use.

You guys lookin' for the angst, it's still there, you just gotta' look – but the chapters about Draco being at the Burrow are _really_ hard to keep dark. I'm having way too much fun with the Weasley's. There may be some fluff, but it won't be that way forever. Thanks a lot to those of you who took the time to review and let me know your thoughts on the fic – you are appreciated! - Lee )

**Chapter Thirteen -**Dinner With The Weasley's

* * *

Ginny descended the stairs quickly, though if it was in excitement to meet her father or in an effort to get away from Draco's lazy smile before she did something Hermione would find shocking, she wasn't sure. 

"Hi, Daddy!" Ginny launched herself at her father, inwardly bemoaning the troubled expression he was trying to hide.

A very tired looking Arthur Weasley caught his daughter up in his arms with a smile. "Hi there, pumpkin." He pulled back to look at her, touching her chin with his forefinger. "Look at you, now! My little girl, all grown up! You've gotten taller since September!"

Ginny grinned up into sparkling blue eyes shadowed slightly by spectacles and leaned up to kiss his beard shadowed cheek. "I really haven't, Daddy, but it's nice of you to lie!"

She eyed him worriedly – he looked as if he hadn't slept in a week. She bit her lip, and then reached back and hauled Draco up beside her.

"Daddy – this is Draco Malfoy."

She started to let loose of his hand, but Draco only tightened his around hers.

He offered his other to her father.

"Pleased to meet you, sir."

Arthur very nearly did a double-take, but he recovered nicely, tucking his worn, bulging briefcase under one arm as he reached out to shake Draco's hand.

Ginny allowed herself a slight sigh of relief.

"Well, dinner's very nearly ready," Molly announced from nearby. "Why don't you all get washed up?"

Ginny led Draco away, and pulled on his arm to get him to bend down so she could whisper a warning in his ear.

"Take my advice – don't eat _anything_ Fred and George might give you…"

* * *

Draco soon discovered that dinner with the Weasley's was much different from anything he had ever experienced at the manor. It was a far from relaxed atmosphere, with everyone shouting over each other to be heard, though he thought they didn't even realize how much noise they were making, and the twins using their wands to animate certain bits of the well cooked fare into wriggling about disgustingly on Harry and Ron's plates.

He figured the icy smile he'd directed at the twins at the beginning of dinner had pretty much put a damper on anything they'd been planning to pull on _him_, but he knew better from what Ginny had said than to think he'd be the exception for much longer.

Draco warily eyed a small line of round green peas recently enchanted by Fred – or George – to bounce around the table in a Conga line as he thought over the events of the past hour.

His introduction with Arthur Weasley had been a surprisingly quick, not entirely uncomfortable affair. The man, although clearly overworked, stressed out, and grossly underpaid, had seemed accepting enough of Draco's sudden appearance in his already full to bursting home, although he had given Draco a look out of those bright blue eyes that had clearly said he'd be having a nice chat with him later that night.

Percy 'the Pompous Weasley', as he'd come to think of him, had actually proven to be the exception out of all of Ginny's brothers – clearly the most successful member of the Weasley clan, he seemed determined to achieve fantastic heights in his fledgling career at the ministry – and he didn't seem to mind Draco's presence one bit.

Of course, Molly seemed to be terribly interested in his latest love interest, a Miss Penelope Clearwater.

Draco paused with his fork over the center of a surprisingly tasty cut of sirloin as he watched the woman prod her son into giving details about his relationship. Clearly Molly was eager for at least one of her sons to settle down and begin commanding a small army of Weasley grandchildren.

He decided whatever fool ever determined to marry into the Weasley family and start adding to their already mind boggling number didn't deserve his pity.

"Well? Don't keep your poor Mum in suspense," Molly was saying. "Have you and Penelope set a date yet?"

Percy, who'd been trying desperately to concentrate on a small leather bound book of notes, looked up at his mother pleadingly.

"Mother, I'm truly sorry to inform you, but Miss Clearwater and I are no longer seeing each other."

Molly gasped so loud the sound could be heard even over the racket everyone else was making.

Draco didn't think he'd ever been quite so entertained in his life.

"Percy! Oh, _why?_ I thought she was a lovely girl!"

"We just found that we didn't suit any longer," Percy mumbled as he jotted something down in his book.

"Or it could be you find her snogging at that last Halloween party we threw, in a closet with Basil Rathbone," one of the twins sniggered out of the side of his mouth.

Molly gave one of her theatrical sounding gasps again, and Draco had to hide his smirk.

"Penelope? Oh dearest, I had no idea! Well, clearly she wasn't good enough for you, darling," Molly stated, reaching over to pat Percy arm fondly.

Percy gave a slight shrug, not showing that he was bothered by the girl's betrayal at all.

"These things happen, mother. Things weren't going terribly well between us at the time anyway," he said absently, tugging at his horn-rimmed glasses.

"Well, why ever not?"

"It's nothing, mother. There just wasn't anything there anymore – "

"Oh. Are you very sure you aren't a homosexual?" Molly asked mildly.

"_Oh my God_," Ginny muttered beneath her breath in utter embarrassment, and put a hand over her eyes.

She sensed Draco go completely still beside her and ground her teeth as she peeked at him from the corner of her vision. He didn't even bat an eye.

She watched as Hermione went red in the face and made a quick grab for her napkin, obviously intent on hiding her grin behind it.

Harry bit his lip hard and ducked his head, trying very hard not to laugh though his shoulders were shaking like mad.

Ron and the others weren't bothering to hide their hysterics, however. They were cackling and guffawing as loud as humanly possible. Fred was laughing so hard he began turning blue.

"MOTHER!" Percy shouted in a scandalized tone.

"Really, Molly," her Dad commented in a voice choked with laughter.

"What? Penelope was the only girl he ever really dated, much less brought home," her Mum stated calmly, ignoring the mass hysteria she'd been the cause of. "It stands to reason – "

"I am most certainly NOT a homosexual!" Percy exclaimed in the most indignant tone Ginny had ever heard.

Charlie snorted and accidentally knocked over his drink, which ran off the table and splattered all over Crookshanks who'd been lounging on the floor beside his chair. The cat made a loud spitting noise and rushed off to clean its fur.

"Well, it would be perfectly all right if you were, dearest," their mother pointed out quickly, her voice understanding. "You can't help whom you love – "

_"For the last ruddy time, Mum, I am not - bloody - gay!"_ Percy yelled, completely losing his composure, and his affected, upper class accent.

It was then that everybody lost it – except for herself and Draco, of course.

Ginny didn't dare look at him – she didn't want to see the disdainful expression sure to be on his face.

"It's all right, Percy, dear, all right, not to worry. Don't get your knickers in a bunch," Molly said soothingly. "It's not good for your nerves – "

There was a frustrated sigh as Percy excused himself and said goodnight, hastily walking from the room in obvious disgust.

"Mum, that was the best!" One of the twins crowed, delighted that his mother has been the cause of complete and utter chaos.

"I'll say – that was better than anything I had planned for him!" The other twin said, wiping his streaming eyes. "Why didn't we think of that, eh, Fred? Straitlaced Perce – he must have nearly swallowed his tongue when she asked him that, calm as you please."

"_You're_ Fred," Ginny pointed out dryly, probably the only one present at the table to be able to tell the twins apart.

"Well, so I am!" He looked at his mother censuringly. "See what you did, woman? Made me laugh until I don't even know which twin I am anymore!"

"Well, you can laugh yourself into the kitchen, then until you figure out who you are. You can get a start on those dishes whilst everyone begins dessert!" The short, round red head sent her son a look that brooked no argument, and Fred disappeared into the kitchen with a groan, and the resigned look of a man who'd spent _a lot_ of time doing dishes.

Ginny shook her head and then kicked Ron roughly under the table, as he seemed to be having a hard time shutting up.

"Ow!" Ron abruptly shut his mouth as his laughter cut off, and grabbed at his shin.

"Er…no dessert for me, thanks," Ginny announced, and stood up. "I'm going to go check on the gnomes."

A collective sigh sounded from around the table.

"Every year," Ron mumbled, rolling his eyes. "Never fails. I say we ought to just go find a bloody Jarvey and be done with it." He grinned and nudged Harry with his elbow. "Save us the trouble of tossing 'em, wouldn't it?"

Harry only shrugged.

Ron, Jarvey's _eat_ Gnomes!" Hermione gasped from across the table, her eyes narrowing.

"Right – so what's your point?" Ron asked in annoyance.

"I won't have one of those creatures in my garden, Ronald Weasley, so get that idea right out of your head!" Molly announced as Fred re-appeared, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and forearms already dusted with soap bubbles, and they began gathering plates. "Really! The _awful _mouths on those things…"

No one caught Fred and George looking at each other suddenly and winking. Another 'evil' plot was instantly afoot.

"I can't believe you, Ron! That's cruel!" Hermione snapped. "Thinking about letting some – some overgrown _ferret _savage those poor little gnomes – "

_"Overgrown ferret!"_ Fred and George sent surreptious glances Draco's way and burst into laughter.

Ginny groaned as she watched Draco stiffen in his chair, his eyes turning to silver slits. God, he and her brothers were going to _hex _each other right over her Mum's good china –

"I'm going to go help Fred in the kitchen!" Hermione declared angrily, sending Ron a look of dislike, which he looked completely bewildered by.

Fred paused to watch as Hermione passed by him into the kitchen and then grinned at Ron and wiggled his eyebrows up and down in a suggestive manner before disappearing after her with a deliberate low whistle.

Ron slid down in his seat mumbling a string of curses that made their Mum nearly deck him with a serving platter, and her Dad and the others chose that moment to make good their escape.

Draco stood up to follow them, obviously trying to contain his temper for proprieties' sake.

Ginny glared at Ron, frustrated enough to scream, and then stomped out of the room to grab her jumper and gloves.

* * *

"You do realize that garden gnomes are pests, and not pets, don't you?" 

Ginny took a deep breath of the cold night air and then sighed.

"How could I forget with Ron giving me the very same lecture every year?"

Ginny shivered slightly where she sat on a stone garden bench near the frozen pond that held frog spawn in the summer.

She tensed as Draco slowly walked over, his boots crunching over the snow, and sat down next to her. Suddenly the bench didn't seem quite long enough.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the air wind through the bare tree branches over head, making them creak, and then there was a small scuffling noise as some gnome or another poked it's head out of the bushes and then scurried across the snow toward it's burrow.

"I mean, look at the poor things – they're naked," Ginny heard herself say out of the blue. "They've got to be freezing!"

Draco turned to look at her in the moonlight. "Think we should be clothing the gnomes now, do you?"

Ginny frowned at the amusement in his voice. "Of course not, they'd only be confused – but I don't think we should be throwing them out of the garden in the middle of winter. They always come back with skinned noses…and it's far too cold to kick them out of their homes. There's nothing but silverweed growing here during the winter anyway."

She turned her head reluctantly when he didn't say anything, only to seem him staring at something in the shadows.

From within the shadows of one of the bushes, Crookshanks moved forward, stalking one of the gnomes.

"Aren't you going to try to warn it?" Draco asked her wryly.

Ginny shrugged. "No – he won't catch it. He's been trying for years."

As if to prove her point, Crookshanks growled low in his throat, and pounced – the apparently unconcerned gnome only giggled madly and ran across the sparkling snow, making a dive for it's burrow. The cat only succeeded in getting a face full of foamy white fluff.

Ginny giggled as the flat faced feline shook its head, pawing at the snow stuck to its long whiskers.

"Aren't you cold, Gin?"

Ginny almost jumped out of her skin as the unexpected, soft, warm whisper sounded against her ear.

"I-I guess I am, a bit, at that," she answered shakily, and then cleared her throat. "Maybe we should be getting back inside – "

"I could warm you up, if you want," Draco stated in that same low, cool voice as his arm came to rest across her shoulders.

Ginny gulped loudly and quickly stood up. "Draco…we need to talk."

"Why talk when there are so _many_ other things we could be doing?" He purred coldly as he stood up behind her.

"Draco…we need to talk about what you did today…" she began weakly as he pulled her back against his chest.

"Do we?" His hands crept to her shoulders and then he spun her around so quickly she lost her footing on the slippery snow and fell completely against him.

The kiss he gave her while she was still off guard was forceful and hungry, and made her heart slam against her ribs even as it stole her breath. She gripped the cold leather covering his shoulders with her nails as he pushed her lips open with his and dragged his tongue inside to taste her.

She knew she would have fallen if he hadn't been holding her so tightly against him – her head was spinning dizzily. His lips slanted hard across hers as one hand rose to cup the back of her neck to hold her in submission.

Ginny went weak as his arm curled around her waist and one hard, denim clad thigh inserted itself between hers…

His mouth left hers after long minutes, and his lips ran across the cold skin of her cheek before he breathed harshly, "I want you, Ginny…I feel like I'm going to go mad if I can't have you soon…God, I've waited all day just to feel you against me like this…you have no idea what you do to me..."

Ginny forced her eyes open with effort. Her heart felt like it was beating in her throat now, and she wanted more than anything just to –

_"Ginny! Mum wants you!"_

The night wind hit her like a rush of icy-hot needles as she heard the back door bang open.

It was actually painful, trying to separate herself from Draco in the next moment. What had she been thinking, standing there, _snogging_ Draco in full sight of her entire family? He'd be lucky if he managed to escape with all of his body parts attached -

"Gin? You out here?" George's voice turned uncertain, and then the door slammed shut again.

"Don't worry – he didn't see anything, it's too dark." Draco told her smoothly, as if all they'd been doing was shaking hands.

Ginny took a deep breath and then exhaled heavily. "Draco – "

"Ginny, forget about today. No harm has been done, right? Did you see how happy your mother and father were in there?"

"Yes," she said reluctantly. "But if someone finds out – "

"No one will find out, Ginny. And if you're worried about me, don't be – what I loaned your parents was like a day's worth of pocket change," Draco told her carelessly.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "How nice for you," she said dryly.

"Ginny…"

"Oh, _all_ _right!_" She snapped. "I'll say thank you – but I won't forget about it. If you're trying to pull something – "

"Right Gin, I'm trying to 'pull something' right underneath the noses of your 'six' brothers _and_ your father. I may be underhanded but I'm not stupid."

Ginny suppressed a snort and a well used comeback and then turned away towards the house. She paused a few steps from him, and turned back to say, "Draco? I'm sorry about the 'ferret' thing back there in the dining room."

She could barely make out the shrug of his shoulders in the darkness. "As if I haven't heard it a million times already. Don't worry about it, Gin."

She nodded but continued to hesitate. "Aren't you coming in? It's getting really cold."

Draco laughed in a way that made her stomach tighten painfully. It wasn't a happy sound.

"I'm used to it."

Her heart was officially breaking. Before she knew what she was doing, Ginny walked straight back to him and wrapped her arms right around his lean waist, and pressed a quick kiss to his t-shirt covered chest, right above his heart.

A sudden intake of breath was the only sign he gave of being at surprised by her actions.

Ginny swallowed and rested her cheek against his chest breifly before pulling back.

_"I love you so much, Draco."_

Draco felt the words hit him with the force of a fist, caught completely off guard by her impulsive embrace.

Sure, he'd hear those words from her before, but that had been different, back when he'd only wanted one thing from her – but what the hell was he thinking? What else could he possibly want from her? Comfort? Honesty? He tried to make a disgusted noise but his throat had closed off, making it impossible to make a sound.

Before he could clear it to say anything at all, she was gone, jogging across the snow towards the house, her banner of red curls shining glossy and dark in the inconstant moonlight.

The door banged shut behind her before he could even bring himself to blink.

He suddenly couldn't feel the cold at all.

* * *

TBC 


	14. Chapter 14 Manly Men, Doing Manly Things

**The Dragon Rebels**

(**A/N:** So sorry about the wait everyone. Again, my excuse – which you have doubtless heard me use time and time again – yes, that's the one – the very RUDE, very unwelcome intrusion of that VERY ugly, nasty, dull thing called :gasp: REALITY :theme from The Exorcist plays:

Okay, so, I have been doing A LOT of things lately, including teaming up with the very talented, incredibly clever Jedi Tess of Gryffindor (I SO love her) to write a D/G, H/OC fic, aptly titled "Potter vs. Malfoy: War's End". It should be rather interesting…J.T. of G. has busted her poor butt getting the first post re-formatted, just in case you noticed the oopsies earlier. We both apologize for the wonkiness – something just went wacky. Check it out, give us your opinions!

Lastly, wanted to warn you guys this chapter is a bit different from the others – it digs a bit into Draco's sexual history, so nobody freak out and say he's too young or whatever – it's just the way I see him in this particular character. He is supposed to be kinda' world weary, you know what I mean? Expect the next chapter sometime tomorrow, or A.S.A.P., whatever comes first. It'll be better than this one, I'm just easing back into it, promise.

Thanks for reading! You are VERY much appreciated!

Lee)

**Chapter Fourteen -**Manly Men, Doing Manly Things

* * *

_"I love you so much, Draco,"_ Ginny mimicked to herself as she slammed the door shut behind her and leaned up against it, breathing hard. "Ginny Weasley, don't you have _any_ pride? _God_…"

She squeezed her eyes shut for a long moment, fighting to slow her breathing, her cheeks feeling hot and tingly as she forced herself to think about what she had just said.

She could hear her voice in her mind, saying it over and over again, until she felt so humiliated she wanted to go knock herself over the head with something heavy – and preferably large, so as to do the most possible damage!

_'Am I _ever_ going to grow a brain?'_ She mentally asked the ceiling when she finally opened her eyes. _'Maybe even just a half of one?'_

_Sweet Merlin_, _why_ had she said that? There was no way she could still love him, after what he'd done. He'd _used_ her! They weren't even 'friends'!

She just felt sorry for him…and then of course there was the fact that she was just a big, fat, hopeless liar!

Draco wouldn't love her. He couldn't, he'd said. If he ever did claim to love her, she'd have to start keeping an eye out for red horns, and a forked tongue to go with the 'fangs' he already sported!

"Oi, there you are, Gin!"

Inward groan. She looked down slightly to see Fred and George standing near, wearing identical knowing grins as they surveyed her reddened, windblown look.

"Been outside, _'checking on the gnomes'_, eh?" George said, elbowing his brother knowingly.

Fred cocked his head and studied her flushed face intently. "Looks like one of the _gnomes_ got a bit excited out there – or maybe it was a ferret. Where _is_ Malfoy, by the way?"

"Shove off," Ginny muttered sourly, and stepped away from the door, unwinding her scarf from her neck. She tugged off her gloves, toed off her shoes, and walked past them with a sigh. "What did Mum want?"

"I – uh…I think she wants to give you…the 'talk'." George's voice choked off suspiciously at the end.

Ginny froze and turned slightly, a horrified expression dawning on her face.

The twins were turning red from holding in their laughter.

_"No."_

George gave her what may have been a look of pity had he not been grinning so wide.

"Please, please, _please_ tell me you're kidding," she groaned, dropping her head into her hands.

"Nope!" Her brother said with demonic glee.

"Don't go thinking you're getting out of it, either," Fred added, confirming her doom. "The lot of us had to go through it, too, so it's only fair." He winked at her, crossing his arms. "Bet you forgot all about it, eh?"

"This is so not fair!" Ginny barely managed to keep from stomping her foot in frustrated anger. She was sixteen years old! She did _not_ need the 'talk'!

"Yeah, well, you shoulda' thought about this before you invited the dispossessed little Malfoy lord-ling to spend Christmas," George pointed out.

"Don't worry, Gin. It'll be over soon…and if it makes you feel any better…" Fred exchanged a glance with his brother, and reached for the doorknob, "you're not the only one."

Ginny could have shrieked in mortification as Fred joyfully leaned out the door and bellowed,_ "Oi, Malfoy! Get yer arse in here!"

* * *

_

She felt awful. She'd taken the cowards way out, and left Draco in her brothers clutches, instead of facing him, apologizing profusely, and giving him fair warning about her father…

"We're just, er - acquaintances, Mum," Ginny tried to tell her mother for the hundredth time.

"I saw the way you two were looking at each other, Ginevera Weasley! Don't be trying to tell me the two of you are 'just friends'."

_'I didn't say we were 'friends','_ Ginny thought to herself peevishly. She supposed she should feel lucky her mother had finally stopped talking about the 'birds' and the 'bees'. She shuddered.

"You think I didn't hear what he did at that silly Quidditch match when you nearly killed yourself off? A boy that pays that much attention to a girl when she's been hurt is far more than a friend."

"What exactly did you hear, Mum?" Ginny asked suspiciously.

"That the moment you were hit by that horrid blooder, he raced down to the field to get to you – heard he jumped the last twelve feet from the stands in one go, and then didn't leave your side until Poppy made him. Had to throw the poor boy out, she did." Molly clucked her tongue as she frowned down at a spot on one of her embroidered pillow cases.

Ginny swallowed, and then – "Mom, they're called 'bludgers' these days."

"I don't care what they are! They're right nasty little buggers…don't see why you had to fall into that awful sport – always taking after your brothers…stubborn thing…"

Molly pointed her wand and directed a pile of neatly folded towels into the linen cupboard nearby. She turned to Ginny with eyes that suddenly, disturbingly resembled a hawks in their sharpness. "I don't want to see any crossing of the hall tonight, you understand? And your father is at this moment informing Draco of the same, so don't be getting it into your head that he'll be paying you a visit, either!"

Ginny felt her cheeks flame and her jaw drop. _"Mother!"_

"Don't you 'mother' me, Ginevera! When you're graduated and married, you can do whatever you want, but right now you're sixteen and in no need of – "

"Mum! Please!" Ginny covered her ears. "I'm not stupid!"

"I didn't say you were, dearest," Molly said more gently, "but that boy has a way about him that – "

"Mum! I know, I know!" She squeezed her eyes shut. She did not want to hear her mother's opinion on Draco's sex appeal! The whole day was swiftly turning into The Nightmare Before Christmas!

"Well, just so long as you understand – you can go off now, I can see you're wanting to."

Ginny breathed a huge sigh of relief as she moved back down the upstairs hallway, rounding a corner and reaching blindly for the door to her room.

" – first that Krum bloke, and now my own bloody _brother?_"

"Just shut-up Ron! There isn't anything going on between Fred and I, and you know it! This isn't about Fred!"

Ginny paused with her hand above the door knob. Her eyes widened as she heard the raised voices coming from inside her room.

"Fred isn't the Weasley I'm in love with!"

She felt her jaw drop for the second time in five minutes. Hermione had told Ron she liked him! And from the frustrated, over-stressed sound of Hermione's voice, they'd been talking in there for quite some time.

"'Mione, I – "

"Don't you think I know you resent me for just jumping in and telling you the truth? Well, someone was going to have to take the initiative, and the odds are, by the time you ever got around to it, we'd both be old and silver-haired!"

"Hermione – "

"I know, _I know!_ You don't want our friendship to change! I don't either! But I can't just stop having feelings for you – and…a-and I know you feel something for me too!"

Complete silence. Ginny rolled her eyes – she wanted to go and strangle her brother. Couldn't he see Hermione was insanely, madly in love with him? And that he felt the same way about her? All he did over the summer was talk about Hermione, even more so than he talked about Harry!

"Ron, I – you are 'fond' of me, aren't you? I mean, everything we say, all the ways we act around each other, it all points to one thing, doesn't it? It makes perfect sense. There's something between us, something connecting us besides Harry – right?"

"Er – but, Hermione…we…no point…what kind of future…You-Know-Who - " Ron stuttered weakly, his gruff voice pitched so low and soft Ginny could barely catch words here and there.

Hermione, clearly at the end of her tether, finally snapped, "Fine – don't admit that you have feelings for me! Just know that we don't have nine lives, Ron, and the threat of Voldemort – "

_"Don't say his name!"_

" – VOLDEMORT, is probably going to be hanging over our heads for the rest of our lives, and you can't be afraid to live the one life you _do_ have!" Hermione all but shouted, and Ginny winced as she heard the other girl stomp across the room toward the door.

That hadn't gone well at all…

To her surprise, when the door opened, it wasn't Hermione who came trudging out, it was a red-faced, bewildered looking Ron.

The door slammed hard on his heels.

Ginny took a step back, crossed her arms, and looked up at her older brother with a raised brow. "I bet you're happy now you've made a proper ass out of yourself in front of poor Hermione again."

Ron growled something that sounded remotely like, "Shove off," and shouldered past her, walking into his room and slamming the door shut even harder and louder than

Hermione had, as if to prove a point.

Ginny sniffed and knocked hesitantly on her bedroom door. "Hermione?"

For a moment she was sure the other girl wasn't going to answer. Then there was a miserable sounding, "What?"

She bit her lip, feeling bad that she'd been eavesdropping. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?" Hermione responded in an angry tone.

Ginny sighed. "As much as I'd like to tell you Ron's dreadfully thick – "

A loud snort came from the direction of Ron's room. _"Eavesdropper."_

" – and to just forget all about him, I think the little sod really does love you, and that you should talk this out."

Hermione made a loud, garbled snarl.

_"Please?" _Ginny asked in a tiny voice. "And I'm not eavesdropping, Ron! You can't eavesdrop in your own bloody house!"

"I'd rather chew glass!" The older girl snapped, making sure her response was loud enough for Ron to hear.

Ron was wise enough not to respond. He did stomp around an awful lot, and then something heavy crashed against the wall. Ginny winced, hoping whatever it had been didn't belong to Draco.

"Oi, Ginny! Ask Ron and Hermione if they wanna play a game of poker!" Charlie called up the stairs.

**"NO!" **

Ginny found herself nearly deafened by the denials shouted in unanimity.

Well, at least they were agreeing on something.

"Ron, what did you do now?" Charlie shouted back, his voice teasing.

Ears ringing, Ginny was very thankful when her mother finally yelled over everyone to stop shouting. She looked between the two rooms, decided she wasn't going to get anywhere with either one of them tonight, and plodded downstairs to her certain doom.

After the scene outside, and the excruciatingly embarrassing fact that her father was no doubt warning Draco off, she didn't think she'd ever be able to look him in the eye again!

"Ah, the prisoners have been released from the tower," Charlie said with a smile as he looked up from his cards and witnessed the seemingly simultaneous arrival of Draco and Ginny in the opposite entrances to the crowded, comfortably cluttered living room.

Ginny wanted very badly to disappear in that moment – or go and find a small, dark hole to crawl into and die of humiliation. She carefully kept her eyes averted.

"You two playing?" Bill asked as he dealt out cards to Fred and George, Harry and Charlie.

Ginny gave her head a shake, and wandered over to the pillows before the fireplace to take up the book she'd been reading earlier.

She saw a pair of lean, black denim clad legs walk past out of the corner of her eye, and heard Draco's low voice as he settled himself at the table.

She was trying to focus on the book when she heard him speak directly to her.

"Sure you don't want to play, Gin?"

Her tongue twisted on her reply. "Er, no thanks. This book is, uh, really interesting." She still refused to look at him. Just listening to his voice was making her practically melt into a messy puddle at his feet.

Draco's tone turned silky in an instant. "It must be – you are, after all, attempting to read it upside-down…"

* * *

"Bloody hell!" Fred threw his cards down with a scowl. "Why couldn't we have just played go-fish? I'm unbeatable at that!"

"Yeah, because you cheat," George supplied helpfully.

"I do not! How can you cheat at Go-Fish?"

"You used to cheat at Old-Maid, too," Charlie added dryly.

"I do not cheat! There's a good bloody reason I was put into Gryffindor, you know!"

"He bribed the Sorting Hat," George hissed in a mock whisper.

Ginny, snuggled deeply into the pillows on the floor before the fire, giggled softly to herself. She tugged the worn green chenille throw tossed over her closer to her chin and tried to pretend she was well hidden from Draco's eyes.

She'd given up on the book long ago, and contented herself with closing her eyes, and pretending to fall asleep, just so she could lay still and have the luxury of listening to Draco's voice as he bantered coolly with her brothers and Harry across the table.

Warm, sleepy, and incredibly comfortable, she was dozing off when she felt a tug on her ankle.

"Go 'way," Ginny murmured, a slight frown creasing her forehead.

The tug came again.

"Please stop, I'm so comfy," she protested softly.

"Come on, Gin – you'll rest better in bed."

"No – want to stay here." She gave the warm throw being slowly pulled from her grasp a protesting yank.

"Ginny," the voice came again, arrogant, but soft, and gently coaxing.

She sighed and stubbornly refused to answer.

After a long moment, in which she managed to slip back to sleep, Ginny felt a pair of hands slip under her back and knees, and then she was being lifted against something far warmer then the pillows she'd been resting on.

"Ain't that sweet – he's acting all Prince Charming like," she heard Fred mutter laughingly from somewhere.

"She looks really heavy – why don't you let me have her?" Charlie offered.

Ginny frowned harder and turned her face away. She _wasn't_ fat!

"I think I can handle her," she heard someone drawl above her in amusement.

A strong thudding sounded beneath her ear, like that of a heart-beat, and Ginny smiled briefly in contentment as she drifted off.

Her blissful sleep was soon interrupted by the fell of cold sheets against her skin.

She gave a shiver as chilly feeling linens were drawn swiftly over her, and buried her nose in her pillow – it smelled like Draco's cologne, and she remembered vaguely that he'd been lying across her bed earlier.

"Goodnight, Gin," came a warm whisper just over her ear, and she felt a pair of warm fingertips brush across her cheek, before the door clicked shut, and muffled voices faded outside in the hall.

"G'night," she managed to mumble before hugging her pillow and falling into a much needed deep sleep.

* * *

Draco closed the door quietly behind him, and turned to see Harry standing behind him, his green eyes narrowed behind his specs.

"What's wrong, Potter? Still sore about losing those ten galleons?"

"What are you trying to pull, Malfoy? Carrying Ginny up to bed, like she bloody belongs to you or something – "

"As far as you're concerned, Potter, she does belong to me," Draco responded tightly. "Don't think I haven't noticed you watching her all year."

"Ginny and I are just friends – "

"Yes, you are 'just friends', Potter, and you'd better keep it that way."

Harry's jaw tightened visibly. "You don't have any kind of claim on her, Malfoy – and if you do anything to hurt her, the Weasley's are going to be the least of your worries."

Draco was prevented from responding as Arthur Weasley appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Well, good night, boys – going to bed, are you?"

He looked as if he hadn't heard a word the two of them had exchanged.

"Yes, sir," they both muttered tensely, eyes shooting daggers at each other.

"All right, then. See you in the morning," the older man said cheerily, and headed back down the stairs.

"I'm warning you, Malfoy – " Harry began shortly.

"What Potter? Going to turn me out? Oh, I forgot – this isn't your house, is it?"

Draco shook his head tiredly and deliberately turned his back. "If you'll excuse me – I have to go get in line to use the frigging bathroom."

Ron's room was already dark when Draco returned.

"I sincerely hope you don't snore, Weasley," he couldn't keep from digging as he made a swift check of his bed to make sure there were no pranks present.

"Shut-up, Malfoy – I'm in no mood to deal with you," Ron growled from his bed.

Draco smirked as he crawled beneath his covers, wincing a bit at the quality of the sheets. They felt like they had far less than the 350 and over thread count he was accustomed to…

"How can you sleep in here, Weasley? It's dark and the walls are still practically glowing," he prodded out of habit. "What possessed you to paint the place that god-awful orange?"

"Sod off, Malfoy. I bet _your_ room looks like Salazar Slytherin threw up all over it!" Ron shot back defensively.

"It does," Draco agreed amiably enough. "But I can't really call it 'my' room anymore, now, can I?"  
Ron seemed to fall into a guilty sort of silence.

"Just go to sleep, Draco," Harry said from his side of the room. "We need our rest – we've still got to put up with you for two more weeks."

"Longer, maybe, if that blizzard sets in," Ron added crossly.

Draco rolled onto his back and stared up at the cracked plaster ceiling – even in the darkness he could tell it was painted bright orange as well. He was feeling too restless to just lie there and wait to go to sleep. The fact that Ginny, warm and unbelievably soft, was laying less than twenty feet from him was driving his senses crazy. Unwillingly, he turned his head towards the door.

"Don't even think about it, Malfoy," Ron said from his bed.

A wry smile twisted his lips. "Don't worry about it, Weasley. I already received the lecture from your father."

Ron surprised him by laughing out loud. "Don't tell me _my_ Dad gave you the 'talk'!"

"If what you mean by the 'talk' is a red-faced stammering rendition of the birds and the bee's, then, yes," Draco answered dryly. "Followed up by a stern admonition that I'll have my fingers hexed off if I lay one hand on your sister, of course."

Harry made a rusty sounding chuckle. "I'd have loved to have been there."

"You probably just would have been confused, Potter," Draco murmured tauntingly, raising a hand to push through his hair.

Ron amazed him by laughing again.

"Like you know everything," Harry answered angrily.

"I'd be very surprised if there's anything I _don't_ know," Draco replied with smug confidence.

After a long silence, Ron asked in a hushed voice. "Malfoy, you're so full of it. You trying to tell me you've – done it, before?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm telling you, Weasley. You haven't? I can't say I'm surprised." Draco closed his eyes and crossed his arms behind his head.

"With who?" Harry asked challengingly.

"A gentleman never names names," he said arrogantly.

"Who ever accused you of being a bloody gentleman? Lyin' sod," Ron snorted, throwing a pillow at him.

"Being able to keep your gob shut about what you do in private is what makes the difference between a boy and a man,"Draco drawled in annoyance, lobbing the pillow back at its owner.

"Oh, woo-hoo! Malfoy is getting all _honorable_ on us, Harry! The apocalypse must be coming. Quick look outside – is the sky raining fire?"

"I'm going to sleep," Harry grumbled.

Draco shrugged. "All right then. I'll tell you this much, Potter. _One_."

Ron sat up in his bed, staring across the room at him in the darkness. "One what? One time? You've done it _one_ time, and you're acting like you've shagged every female on the bloody planet?"

Harry made a sound of abject disgust.

"Actually it's more like – _twenty_-one," Draco corrected quietly. "Though I haven't exactly been keeping count – "

"You're full of it!" Ron exclaimed. "twenty girls – "

"Women," Draco interjected.

" – no bloody way! You can't have been with that many women – you're still in school, you great lying prat!"

"I've spent my summer holidays in London the past few years, not that it's any of your business, Weasley. And you two aren't the only one's who know of the many different ways out of Hogwarts. You forget who my parents are – were. There was always some family friend with bored, more than willing daughters visiting the manor, during the summer, and staying at the townhouse when we chanced to spend the holidays in town. Like this past summer - I didn't even bother coming home most nights – not that my parents even noticed," he finished bitterly. "You'd be surprised how many older women just love thinking they're 'deflowering' a teenage boy."

"That's _sick!_" The red head shakily announced.

"You wouldn't think that if you could have seen those women, Weasley," Draco told him knowingly. "Well built, spoilt and pampered to within an inch of their lives. Of course it helped, the fact that I _am_ disgustingly wealthy – "

"Was," Harry mentioned.

"_Am_, Potter." Draco didn't bother to elaborate.

"Still, doesn't it bug you that all those women were just attracted to you because of your money?" Ron asked him seriously.

"Not at all. Every woman I've been with had understood its just sex. Emotion doesn't enter into it. Everyone in the real world uses each other, Weasley, to achieve their own ends. And it's not just my money they were after, you know. I _am_ wickedly good-looking, and a fantastic lay if I do say so myself."

"Good-looking like the rear end of a Hippogriff," Harry said under his breath.

"Fancy that – Draco Malfoy, Hogwarts' resident man-whore!" Ron sniggered.

"You're only a whore if you get paid for it," said Draco mildly.

"And this is just another of the many, _many_ reasons why you're never resting a hand on my sister," said Ron threateningly, and Draco heard him crack his knuckles.

"I think that's _her_ decision."

"Right. Like she'd want to touch you if she knew what you just told us! Twenty women…and before you even turned eighteen, at that."

"Wouldn't she? I, for one would think it would be far more comforting, _and_ gratifying to be with someone who knows what the hell they're about. Why? Jealous, Weasley?"

"_Extremely_ – but that's not the point," Ron said, not missing a beat.

Draco laughed shortly. "Remind me to take you out with me one night. Although you'd probably get eaten alive by the sort of company I've been keeping."

"No thanks, Malfoy. Hermione would murder me."

"That girl has you whipped already, and doesn't even know it," Draco told him with distaste. "You aren't even going out. Hell, you aren't even talking! What kind of hold has she got over you, then? Correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't that the two of you I heard screaming the house down earlier?"

"I wasn't screaming, I was shouting. Bellowing, even. In a very _manly_ way," Ron protested.

"If you're done 'entertaining' us with tales of your prowess…" Harry said, sounding very tired, and very annoyed.

Draco sent an amused look over towards Harry and again closed his eyes. He couldn't fall asleep, though. Something had begun tugging at him, making his abdomen twist with unease.

After many long, uncomfortable minutes, and great deliberation, he realized it was guilt. His eyes snapped open.

What the hell did he have to feel guilty about?

Ginny.

_"Damn it!"_

"Shut-up Malfoy, we're tryin' to sleep here!"

He glared over at Ron's bed and swallowed against the unfamiliar feeling. An odd lump had appeared in his throat.

Guilty. Right. Feeling guilty about having been with women he'd never even thought twice about after their encounters were over.

Guilty because he knew Ginny would be crushed if she ever found out.

Well, why should she be? They weren't a couple. They weren't 'together'. He could go over there and snog that bloody Granger if he'd a mind to, and not feel a bit of guilt…Ron Weasleywould have his nuts up a tree, but still.

He hadn't really even known Ginny Weasley existed before the beginning of the first term – he had absolutely no reason to guilty.

Draco tried to settle himself more comfortably against his lumpy mattress and flat pillow, and wondered if this was what his Great, Great, Great Aunt, Princess Analisa had felt like when those stupid Muggles had made her sleep on that bloody pea…

* * *

It didn't take anyone very long to realize the next morning, that Fred and George had been at it again.

For instance, everyone soon discovered that if they even tried to breath a curse word, all that emitted from their mouths was a squawk, not unlike that of a chicken.

Needless to say, the twins were nearly hysterical over their pancakes at breakfast, even as their Mum was shouting herself witless, her furious speech interrupted by many sharp squawks.

Ginny was so embarrassed she couldn't bring herself to look up from her plate, and strands of her hair kept getting in the syrup.

Finally, Fred and George were banished off to their old room as if they weren't grown men with a flat in London, and a flourishing business.

The chaos went on for perhaps another hour, her Mum muttering beneath her breath, brandishing her wand, her father making a hasty exit, beating a path through the snow that had fallen, from the back door to his tinkering shed.

When Bill and Charlie started cursing on purpose just so they could laugh at each other, Molly nearly kicked them out of the kitchen, leaving only Harry, Ginny, Hermione, Draco and Ron.

When faced with the fact that he was probably about to be roped into doing the dishes, Ron quickly finished his breakfast and nudged an unusually glowering Harry.

"Let's get our brooms and head out. It's starting to snow a bit hard, and I wanted to show you that new move – "

Ginny sent her brother a glare as he and Harry stood up from the table, but didn't say a word. She really didn't feel much like making a fuss over the dishes in front of Draco.

"I'm going to go do some homework," Hermione mumbled, and wandered off as well.

Ginny slumped slightly in her chair.

"Wanna' join us, Malfoy?" Ron, his Gryffindor scarf looped around his neck, reappeared with his broomstick, Harry right behind him.

"In a minute, sure. I'm going to, er…help clean up."

Ginny started and looked up, and Ron and Harry paused in their flight towards the door.

"You're what?"

"Go on – somebody has to help Ginny," Draco said smoothly.

"Ought to take a page out of that boy's book, the two of you," Molly called from inside the pantry.

Harry was already unwinding his scarf. "I'll stay – "

"No, it's all right – you go on, too, Draco," Ginny said protestingly.

"You two go on – I'll just grab my broom," said Draco quickly.

The two boys left grudgingly, and Ginny frowned at Draco when he made no move to leave.

"They weren't going to leave me alone with you," he told her, rolling up the sleeves on his velvety black shirt. "So – how exactly does one _do_ dishes?"

Ginny would have laughed out loud had she not known Draco would have been greatly offended.

His long blonde hair was slightly wilted from the heat of the dishwater he'd been bent over, and fell limply across his furrowed brow. A slowly dissolving pile of bubbles was dabbed across one shoulder, and more frothy white bubbles dusted the fine blonde hair on the backs of his forearms.

Ginny slipped the last dish into the cupboard, and threw a hand towel over his shoulder as he let the dirty water out of the sink.

"So – would you make dishwashing a profession?"

Draco rinsed his hands, scowling with displeasure at the wrinkled state of his fingers, and then dried them and his arms with the towel. "Certainly not. That had to be one of the most tedious, disgusting jobs I've ever had the misfortune of doing. Touching other people's plates – revolting."

Ginny shrugged. "I suppose you'd look at it that way. You've probably had servants to do all that for you."

"This _is_ servant's stuff," he agreed, but then he caught her around the waist and gave her a swift peck on the lips. "Just being with you made it worthwhile, though."

"I've heard that one before," she replied breathlessly, thinking of that evening she spent digging Flobberworms with him, of all things.

"But I meant it then, too," Draco answered, and released her.

She abruptly busied herself wiping down the table and counters.

"How can you tell the difference? Between Fred and George, I mean?"

"Freckles," Ginny replied off handedly, draping her towel over the sink to dry.

"Sorry – freckles?"

"Yeah. If anyone took the time to look close enough, they'd notice Fred has this funny little freckle right beneath his left ear – it's really pale, you can miss it very easily, but it's there." She smiled at Draco hesitantly, pushed her hair behind her ear, and shrugged. "I've never pointed it out, you know. Didn't want to spoil their fun."

Draco was watching her intently when the back door banged open and Ron, looking blue tinged and damp from the snow, stuck his head in. "You comin' or what, Malfoy?"

"Yes, we're coming. Hang on." Draco grabbed her hand and led her out of the kitchen.

"Where are we going?"

He smirked and pulled her after him up the stairs. "Get something warm on – and your broom. I have something to show you."

Confused, yet feeling fuzzy inside that he'd decided to include her, Ginny did as he'd instructed and then met him back downstairs a few minutes later.

She dashed down the last few steps, her trusty Firebolt in hand, and nearly swallowed her tongue at the sight of him. He was wearing some sort of long, leathery black coat, with a split up the back, and thin, fingerless black leather gloves. The silver and green of his Slytherin scarf draped around his throat, bringing out the gray of his eyes didn't help either. As if that wasn't enough, he was leaning almost casually on a racing broom.

But it wasn't just _any_ racing broom.

"That's – that's – " Ginny found her lips couldn't form the words. There was too much eye candy. It was causing a sensory overload.

"_That's_ a Firebolt 450," Draco said almost boredly, though his silvery eyes were sparkling.

It was all Ginny could do to move her legs and follow him outside. She was in complete awe.

Had there ever been a doubt that she _loved_ this man?

* * *

(A/N: Yes, that was a Princess And The Pea joke up there. Don't ask. Man-Whore. :giggles hysterically: )


	15. Chapter Fifteen Bizarre Holiday Rituals

**The Dragon Rebels**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, honest!

(**A/N:** Sorry about the wait. Just wanted to say I really haven't much of an idea of how people in the U.K. celebrate Christmas, so I'm sorry if I get anything wrong in this chapter_. Warning:_ Gratuitous, mandatory bathroom encounter ahead. Yes, I CAN say cliché – can you? I _bet_ you can! Heh. Honestly, you can't have a Burrow visit without s_ome_ kind of bathroom scene, where's the fun in that? Also, this chapter is like, sixteen pages long, sorry – it's the chapter that wouldn't end!

Anyway, groveling thanks to every last one of you who reviewed last chapter – I love to read your comments on the fics, and they do go a long way towards what I write next! So keep 'em coming! I also REALLY appreciate you guys who took the time to read 'Potter Vs. Malfoy: War's End' and leave a review. Jedi Tess of Gryffindor is an extremely talented author, and I'm honored to say that I'm writing that fic with her. So if you haven't checked it out yet, give it a peek. If you think it would be a trip to see Seventh Year Draco meet his forty year-old counterpart, I guarantee you at least a laugh, lol. Thanks again for reading. Luv ya! Lee )

**Chapter Fifteen -**Bizarre Holiday Rituals

* * *

"Want a ride, Gin?"

Her lips were moving, Ginny was well aware, but nothing was coming out. But really, who could blame her? She was quickly turning into a block of ice from standing out in the snow, and her nerves were nearly shot from watching Draco, her brother and Harry zooming around, trying to out-do each other with maneuvers that no one should _ever _have been attempting. Not to mention the fact that just looking at Draco was making her brain turn to an unidentifiable mush.

An hour later she'd given up flinching and looking between her fingers whenever Draco or Harry suddenly lunged into an impossibly steep dive, and only just managed to pull up inches from the ground, the tails of their brooms spraying snow in every direction. And Hermione had said _she_ had been flying crazy!

Now Draco smirked challengingly as he continued to hold the mother of all racing brooms out to her. "Come on, give it a try – I know you want to."

Ginny gave an involuntary shiver, and smiled weakly, her mouth feeling very dry. She then stiffened her back at the mocking look in his pale eyes. Thought she was scared, did he? "All right, then." She swiped the broom out of his hands, eyebrows shooting up as she felt how light it was. She flung her hair back, and without hesitancy, expertly mounted the broom, pulling back on the handle slightly to rise swiftly upwards. The Firebolt shot up with unexpected ease, and she had to catch herself. It was an amazingly smooth ride – and the cushioning charm had been much improved, she thought with a grateful wriggle of her nearly numb bottom.

About fifty feet up she stopped and tucked her shoes into the silver metal foot rests placed at the brooms rear. She leaned low over the broom, wrapped her hands more securely around the handle, and flashed a happy grin despite the freezing air.

She didn't think she'd ever been on any broom that was quite so responsive. The handling was even smoother then her Firebolt, and she had to be careful as she experimentally rolled into a dive, the broom jumped ahead so fast.

Ginny flew around for a bit longer, savoring the sense of freedom, before numb fingers and pride made her sweep back down – she didn't want Draco to see how attached she was becoming to his new Firebolt.

Hovering above ground for a moment, she slipped her feet out of the rungs, and ignored the stiffness of her legs as she forced herself to leap carelessly off the broom.

She pulled it out of it's enchanted hover and pushed it back into Draco's hands with a smirk of her own, before walking past him to retrieve her reliable old Firebolt.

"Lovely broom – but I think it'll start developing a bit of a drag and begin to list after a few years."

Ron snorted at her flippancy. "Is it legal to disown your sister?"

"I'll take her if you don't want her," Draco murmured for her ears only as she walked back past him.

Ginny pretended she hadn't heard.

The worn out, many patched black and white Muggle soccer ball flew through the cold, snowflake dusted air and was deftly caught by Ron, who gave his head a disgusted shake.

"Just what the hell was that?" He gave his head a mock, perplexed scratch. " It kind of 'looked' like a reverse pass - "

Ginny, her nose and various other parts of her body now completely numb, hovered in the air above her brother and stuck out her tongue. "This isn't a real match, you tyrant, so don't start."

"That's no excuse – my arse is half frozen to my broom, here, and have I missed it even once? I don't think so." He lobbed the ball back at her, and she caught it, in between teeth chattering breaths. "I don't care if we are on holiday – it still pays to practice."

"Did you ever notice how much he's started acting like Wood this year?" she called in annoyance to Harry, who was actually standing in the snow, reluctantly discussing Quidditch with Draco of all people.

"I know – it's eerie. They should have made him team captain instead of me – he's got that odd expression about his eyes, y'know, that crazy, fevered look," the dark-haired boy shouted back, flashing a cheeky white grin.

Ginny laughed, and then gave a hard shiver as the wind picked up and blew sharp ice crystals stingingly against the skin of her face. Her lungs were aching from breathing the arctic air, and it reminded her it was well past the time she should be making a retreat into the warmth of the house.

She was hesitant to give up and go in, though. She'd been having fun, despite the cold, and the boys hadn't been at each other's throats for once. Once Harry and Ron had laid eyes on Draco's new Firebolt, it had been nothing but Quidditch.

Just as she was about to fly down, the back door opened, and out darted the rest of her brothers, each grasping brooms, looking far too energetic for the state she was in. Only Percy was noticeably absent, which wasn't a surprise. Ginny swooped down to see what was going on.

"I'd say the whole lot of you are barmy as bats flying around out here in this weather, but Mum was threatening us with housework if we didn't move out of her way, so here we are," explained Bill, chaffing his gloved hands together, the ends of his red ponytail flicking around his shoulders in the wind. Ginny found herself taking a moment to again admire his fang earring – she wondered briefly how one would look on Draco...he did have rather nicely shaped ears. It'd be a shame to put a hole in one, but still…

"Say, we haven't had a good game of Shuntbumps in _years_," Fred suddenly spoke up. A disturbingly wicked grin was splitting his freckled face.

"That's kid's stuff," Ron sputtered in violent protest, but Ginny knew just why he was really so adamant about not playing that particular game.

Shuntbumps was an old childhood game that Fred and George had absolutely delighted in – the sole aim of the game was to knock as many players from their brooms as possible, with the last player remaining on their broom being the winner.

Unfortunately for Ron, he'd been the first and easiest to knock off his broom ever since he was a kid, and it had been a constant source of amusement for the twins.

George nodded in agreement with Ron, though. "Yeah – but the ground's too soft. Everyone will just end up in the snow. Where's the fun in that?"

"Well, there aren't enough of us for a real game of Quidditch," Ginny was quick to add, hopeful they'd give up on the idea since she was quite sure her lips were turning an unattractive shade of blue.

"Hmm… eight of us – four on each team. We could work with this," Charlie was muttering beneath his breath, his eyes twinkling with the prospect of battle.

"I can't feel my legs," she complained, standing up to her shins in snow, "and you want to have a match?"

"Can you move your arms?" asked Charlie, arching a dark red brow.

"Well, yes, but – "

"Then you're fine – by the way, she's on your team, Bill!" The dragon trainer gave her cheek a pinch and turned away, ignoring her growl of warning.

"Right, give me a Chaser with frigging useless appendages," Bill grumbled, and then, quite abruptly, "_Bloody hell! _Malfoy – is that what I think it is?"

He'd spotted the new Firebolt – the twins jumped as they caught sight of it, staring at it as if it were something holy and sacred. "I bet that thing cost a bomb," Fred observed, eyeing the racing broom in reverence.

"You have no idea," Draco drawled, looking over at Ginny. "But it was well worth it, believe me."

The wind picked up, and she gave a low, long-suffering moan which no one seemed to take notice of – and for once she wasn't whining about the cold.

_"ACK!" _

Ginny yelped and ducked, but a well-aimed snowball collided with the back of her neck, and turned to icy slush as it ran down the inside of her collar and dribbled along her spine.

"Ron, knock it off!" She wriggled desperately, trying to dislodge the rapidly melting snow, but it only melted against her skin, making her shirt, jumper, and jacket damp, which in turn made her older brothers howl and pause in the midst of their merciless assault on each other. "I swear, every last one of you pillock's are going to get a thump in the face!"

In answer to her threat, another snowball narrowly missed her face.

"That's it – I'm going indoors!"

Ginny stalked off, walking gratefully inside, and saw Charlie give up too, out of the corner of her eye, and enter the house behind her.

"Man, it feels good in here," he sighed, stamping his snow encrusted boots, and pulling off his water-proof, dragon-hide leather gloves.

"Makes me wonder why I didn't come in earlier," she agreed sulkily. "By the way, I can't feel my hips, now, Charlie – are you happy?"

"Come on, Gin – you won, didn't you?" Charlie looked at her glumly. "You do know it's only because you're my little sister, and I'm just really out of practice, right?"

"I know, all right," groaned Ginny, easing her frozen feet out of her shoes. Her socks were soaked through, and she took a peek around to make certain Draco wasn't coming in yet before she quickly yanked them off and gave her toes a grateful wiggle.

Charlie peered at a nearby clock and gave a long, low whistle. "Crikey Moses, it's gone half one already," he murmured to himself. Then he bent slightly, and gave her a brotherly, rib crushing squeeze, before letting out a chuckle.

She looked at him through her hair in annoyance. "What are _you_ laughing at?"

"Just look at those feet – Mum and Dad were right you know. I remember when you were born they said, "Poor little Virginia, got her father's feet, she did, we'll have to keep them hidden or we'll never get her married off!"

Having heard this many times throughout her life, Ginny automatically curled her toes in an attempt to hide them. "Thanks a lot, Charlie! The lot of you have given me an inferiority complex over all of that, you know! I have to keep socks on at all times so no one has to lay eyes my bloody 'horrid' feet! All I need now is for Fred and George to steal all my socks so I'll be forced to walk around barefoot and humiliate myself!"

"Shhh! They'll hear you! You know better than to be giving them ideas. Oh, I'm just teasing you, Gin, don't go getting all shirty with me. Your feet aren't horrid." Charlie grinned and reached out to tickle her ribs. "They're just a bit – manly. Long, hairy, toes, y'know -"

Ginny swatted his hand away from her sensitive side and scowled. "Leave me alone, you! My toes are _not_ hairy! I sincerely hope you get a lump of coal in your stocking!"

Her brother only chuckled again and wandered off toward the kitchen.

Voices sounded outside the back door, and she finished tugging off her wet things just before Ron, Harry, Draco and the twins came inside, slogging snow all over the wood floor. Ron's ginger hair was wet through, and stuck up in spikes, and his face was a bright, raw red – she suspected someone had finally caught up with him for lobbing snowballs, and had washed his face in a snow drift.

When he caught sight of her standing bare foot and shivering in the hall, he sniggered, and then shouted over his shoulder in mock terror, "Oi, you lot, close your eyes – Ginny's not wearing any socks! You'll go blind!"

Incensed, and extremely embarrassed, she shot a furious look at Ron and spun away toward the stairs before either Draco or Harry got a glance at her toes. She'd show them – she'd get to the bathroom first, and _stay_ there!

Her plan would have worked if she hadn't had to stop by her room first to gather things like a towel and fresh clothes. By the time she arrived, the bathroom door was shut. She could hear the water running from inside, and steam was rolling out from beneath the door.

With an angry growl at being thwarted, Ginny kicked the bottom of the door viciously and then gave an agonized wail as pain shot up her big toe to her shin. "Damn, damn, damn! Owwwww!"

She had limped a few feet away when the bathroom door opened, and she turned back to send a murderous glare at whoever was exiting, and her mind went blank – again.

From within a thick, swirling mist of white steam, Draco stepped out into the hall, a pair of threadbare blue denims resting low on his slim hips. _Unbuttoned_ threadbare blue denims, she corrected herself mindlessly, forgetting all about the throbbing pain in her stubbed toe.

Her eyes swept down the long lean length of his legs encased in the ratty jeans, down to his extremely perfect looking white bare feet, and then up again. Despite her best efforts, her eyes lingered for far too long on the unzipped front of his jeans, and she gulped. Loudly.

"Need the bathroom, Gin?"

Her eyes snapped up to see him walking towards her, slim-hipped and sexy, and they settled on the flat, smoothly muscled, pale skinned expanse of his abdomen.

'Oh, God, I'm staring at Draco Malfoy's _belly-button_!' she thought in a panic as he drew near.

"Gin?"

Ginny made herself look up – but she only got as far as his upper body. She felt her eyes grow round, and bit her lower lip hard, but she couldn't stop staring. Goodness…did _all_ boys look like this?

Light, incredibly soft looking blonde hair sprouted sparsely over his chest, and then narrowed into a silky line down his abdomen, around his belly-button, and then, farther down – oh, no, she wasn't looking down again…her eyes flew up.

'Oh, God, now my eyes are glued to his - _nipples_!' She made a small, completely absurd sound of distress, and felt her heart give an answering, frenzied thud. It almost would have been funny if he hadn't been staring right back at her.

Then he moved, and two ends of a frayed white towel fell on either side of his neck, and Ginny gave a great, relieved sigh. At least he was wearing the jeans. No chance at inadvertently getting a look at his – er – _manly bits._

Was that disappointment she was feeling? _Eeep!_

"Are you all right?" His lazy drawl purred in her ears, and she began backing away out of self-preservation. His silvery gaze drifted over her, and she watched him raise one hand and pushed the long, spiky wet ends of his hair out of his eyes, smoothing it back against his head in what seemed to be a gesture of long habit.

With his longish hair slicked back, she could see the aristocratic planes of his face, the high cheekbones, the firm, sharp jaw, the straight, narrow nose, the finely arched, dark blonde brows – and the disdainful, glittering gray eyes that were watching her coolly from beneath his lashes.

The boy practically screamed the name _Malfoy_.

Yep…Draco Malfoy – roughly translated, _dragon of bad faith_…oh, God – was her mouth really watering that much? Was she actually, finally _drooling_ over him? She dumbly lifted her hand to check her chin. Nope – dry. For the moment anyway. Now, if she could just stop panting -

"Did you hurt your foot?"

Ginny jumped and took several steps back, shaking her head. "Er – no." She wanted to smack herself. But she _was_ limping a bit, she finally noticed, and winced as she put her weight on her right foot. "I, uh - I need to go away…_now_." She turned around and hurried off back down the hall to her room, where she collapsed on her bed and lifted her foot into her lap. She prodded her big toe with a hiss, and figured she'd better go and get some ice for it – but she couldn't make herself get back up just yet. She was too busy recalling in her mind's eye what she'd just feasted her eyes on.

"Feasted," Ginny snorted in self-disgust, poking at her injured toe. One of her toy dragons caught her eye, and she looked over at it to realize it was smirking at her, it's white fangs gleaming.

It was quickly stuffed beneath her bed.

A few minutes later, as she was agonizing over her embarrassing moment in the hall, a soft knock sounded on her half-open door, and Draco walked in, making her heart give a painful lurch again. He'd pulled on a velvety looking silvery-gray shirt, which was half open over his chest, and he was still barefoot. A quick glance showed that his jeans were indeed buttoned.

_Thank God._

Ginny realized her feet were in full view and hastily curled them beneath her on the bed, despite the one still throbbing like mad.

Of course he noticed she was trying to hide them. "What are you doing?" he asked softly, in amusement.

"Er, nothing, really. Did you need something?" She grinned up at him nervously.

He walked over to sit next to her on the bed and her skin prickled in awareness. "Let me see."

She turned her head to look at him in horror. "What? No!" _Draco, look at her feet?_ It wasn't happening! _Ever!_

"Why don't you want me to see your feet?" Draco snickered. "Is it because of what your brother said downstairs?"

"What – you _heard_ that?" She gave her head a tight shake. "Of course you heard that, all of the village probably heard him - I mean, _no! _Draco, I just don't think you should be looking at my – feet. Naked." Ginny squeezed her eyes shut. Oh, lord. "I mean, bare."

Suddenly his fingers were on her sides, and she yelped. "Stop! I'm – hee-hee, I'm tick-ticklish! Ha!"

"I know you are, Gin." He laughed lowly and dug his fingers harder against her ribs, making her laugh hysterically.

"Stop! Don't! Hee-hee!"

She was on her back, howling hopelessly, when she realized he had her feet in his hands.

"No – don't look at them!" Ginny tried to sit up, but he only arched a brow and coolly brushed his warm fingertips down the underside of her foot. She shrieked, and tried to yank her foot away.

Finally, after a full minute of examining her feet, he let go and smirked at her.

Hiccupping from having laughed so hard, she sat up, slugging him in the arm. "That was mean!" She was near tears from the fact that he'd seen her ugly toes.

"There's nothing wrong with your feet," he told her, shaking his head.

Ginny pushed herself back against the headboard and wrapped her arms around her pillow. She buried her face in it, again smelling his cologne. "They're awful," she told him, her voice muffled.

He snorted. "They are not. They're – _ahem_ - delicate."

"No they aren't! My toes – they're long!" She sniffled. "And-and Charlie said they're h-hairy!" Ginny hiccupped again, feeling miserable.

Draco made a suspicious choking sound before he said, "I didn't see one _h-hair_ on any of your toes." He coughed, and she carefully looked up from her pillow to see him trying to hide a grin.

The sight of it made her lose her breath – a slight dimple was winking at her from the hollow of his cheek.

Draco Malfoy was alone in her room with her, half-dressed, joking and _grinning_.

He looked up from her toes to see her watching him, and his face froze. The grin fell from his lips as if it had never been, and he stood up, his expression instantly became guarded.

"You're toes are - perfect," he said in a sort of gruff tone she'd never heard from him before, and then he stood up, spun around, and left.

Ginny giggled, not quite sure why, and buried her face back in her pillow.

* * *

Later that evening, feeling much better after a nap, and a long, hot shower, Ginny appeared downstairs to find no one but her mother about.

She learned the other's had gone to collect a tree for decorating, and that Draco – of all people – had volunteered to stay and help find the decorations in the attic.

Ginny was reluctantly half-way up the stairs when she spotted Draco coming down with several boxes – she turned right back around and trotted down the steps.

"Where do you want them, Molly?"

"Just pile them on the sofa there, dear."

Ginny's cheeks began to burn when he at last looked up from the boxes at her.

"Thanks for getting these," she told him shyly. "I just can't believe you found them so fast – it always takes the boys and me forever. The ghoul switches the boxes around during the year, you know."

"No problem," he said easily, tucking his hair behind his ear. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, caught her staring at him, and chest aching, she quickly looked away.

She wasn't sure what else to say after that, and the silence dragged on, only occasionally punctuated by the sounds of her mum bustling merrily around.

Just as it couldn't get any more awkward, the others burst noisily into the house, bringing with them a gust of cold air and the heavy smell of pine, still arguing over which tree should have been picked.

Hermione entered behind the men, looking pink-cheeked from the cold air and still a bit subdued from her argument with Ron the night before. She held in her arms several stacks of fresh pine boughs.

Ginny hurried to take them from her, and leaned close. "Hermione, do you want to talk?"

The older girl only shook her head and then walked away into the kitchen.

She looked after her friend, distressed. She was going to have a long talk with Ron later, see if she didn't!

"Look at this tree, Molly!" Her father stripped off his scarf as the boys set the tree up in front of the window, his eyes beaming proudly.

"Why Arthur, it's huge!" Molly circled the snow dusted tree. "Are you sure you should have gotten one quite so large?"

Ginny had to agree – it was definitely the biggest tree they'd ever had.

"Why not have a gorgeous tree if we can afford it? How many years have we had to get the scrawny ones with great glaring bald spots, eh?" Her dad grinned, reached up and rubbed his own thinning spot, looking ten years younger than usual. Her heart sank.

If only he knew…

She looked over at Draco and he stared back, unrepentantly.

"All right then," her mum declared happily, rubbing her palms together, "let's get to the decorating!"

"I need cocoa first – I'm frozen from the inside out," Ron grumbled, and walked off towards the kitchen – the other guys muttered similar excuses and quickly followed. Ron stopped at the door and called out over his shoulder, "Ain't you coming, Malfoy?"

"Don't care for chocolate, Weasley," Draco answered offhandedly, and Ron shook his head in disgusted disbelief before going into the kitchen. _"Rich people."_

"You don't 'care' for chocolate?" Ginny frowned. "I've never met anyone who didn't care for chocolate before," she told him, perplexed.

"Well, my parents never let me eat it, said it was bad for my complexion, so I never really got terribly fond of it," he returned easily, shrugging.

"Oh, you poor boy. What rot!" her mum clucked her tongue from across the room. "Chocolate won't make you spotty – that's just an old wife's tale. It's actually very good for you – why do you think Poppy gives it out in the Infirmary at Hogwarts?"

Ginny gaped at him. "I'd miss it something awful – I love dark chocolate, it's my favorite!"

Draco only shrugged carelessly again. "You can't miss what you've never had," he murmured coldly, but Ginny knew he was referring to more than just chocolate. Her chest ached in pity, but she didn't dare show it.

"What goes on the tree first?"

Ginny cleared her throat and busied herself by diving into the first box. "Well, the garland's first, then the ornaments and the star - or the angel, on the top. Then come the multi-colored, no-heat candles."

"Huh." The tall blonde found the faded wine and gold velvet ribbon garland, and started looping it around the tree.

"No, no – from the top," Ginny said with a laugh, and helped him to fix it.

"Well, how am I supposed to know – I've never done it before," he snapped impatiently, his chin jutting childishly.

"You're telling me you never decorated a Christmas tree with your family?"

Draco paused in pulling open a battered cardboard box, and looked distinctly ill-at-ease before his expression became shuttered again.

"The house-elves usually took care of it," he told her in that slightly annoyed, but quiet tone he'd evolved of late, and then peered into the box. "Well, what's it to be, then - angel or star?"

Ginny met her mothers eyes over his bent head, and Molly gave a forced smile, her eyes sparkling wetly as she quickly turned her attention back to where she was hanging the fresh pine boughs and mistletoe above the front entryway to the living room.

"Why don't you pick, dearest, seeing as you are our guest?"

After a long moment of serious deliberation, Draco reached into the box, pushing aside shredded paper and excelsior. To Ginny's eternal surprise, instead of picking the fancy, eight-pointed silver and gold embossed star that had been in the family for generations, he pulled out the foot-tall angel.

The angel had been around for many years, and the threadbare condition of it's once lovely gold and wine velvet robes attested to that fact. The angel was made of white porcelain, it's face delicately painted, with blushing peach cheeks, smiling pink lips, and long-lashed, honey brown eyes that held a gentle, joyful sparkle. Ivory colored feathered wings swept out majestically from either side of it's back, and Ginny knew that when the angel was at last placed atop the tree, they would begin to flutter gently.

She watched the boy handle the ornament carefully in his large, slender hands, and found herself smiling.

"This one I think," Draco said, running a finger over the carefully sculpted, dark auburn colored waves on the angel's head. "She…looks like you." He turned his head slowly, and his carefully hooded pale gray eyes looked up at her intently before he blinked, scowled, and then hastily held the angel out to her.

Ginny took the angel woodenly, her tongue glued to the roof of her mouth.

"So, are we writing letters this year?" her Mum asked suddenly.

"Letters to St. Nick?"

She turned her head to see the others coming back out of the kitchen.

"Haven't we outgrown those?" Charlie asked, his voice laced with laughter, large, scarred hands wrapped around a steaming mug. "I think we all know by now Santa doesn't exist, not even in the Wizarding world."

"Oh, but it'll be fun," Molly announced cajolingly. "Like when you were all small. You always used to be so excited, writing down your wishes, and then tossing them into the fire, so Santa could read them in the smoke."

"I never did that," Harry and Draco said at the same time, in very different ways.

A nostalgic longing came over Ginny, and she smiled sadly as she looked into the fireplace, pausing to watch the flames with her hands full of battered antique ornaments. It was true. Santa wasn't real, and in turn, none of her wishes had ever come true – but hope was a funny thing. Maybe…

"It does sound fun. And I know just what to wish for..."

* * *

"Apologize? Me? To her? I didn't _do_ anything!" Ron stood glaring angrily in the doorway of his room, and then slammed the door shut in his sister's face.

"Ron Weasley, I swear you can be as thick as shit sometimes!" Ginny hissed at the door, and then she opened it up and walked right in.

"Jesus, Gin – since when did you start studying ambush tactics?" Ron looked up from where he lay face down across his bed.

"What – did I violate the _boy_ code?" she marched up to her brother stubbornly. "Not supposed to stick my nose in it, when my best friend's wandering around absolutely miserable?"

"What do you mean, miserable?" Ron narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

_Ah._

"She's been crying her eyes out!" Ginny half-lied. "Hermione has been in love with you for years you ignorant git! And then, when she finally gets the nerve to tell you, you start spouting off about Voldemort – "

"Don't say his name!" 

"Voldemort, Voldemort, _Vol-de-mort!_" Ginny leaned down and yelled the name into his ear. "Grow a pair, for god's sake! He has nothing to do with what's between you and her! You sad _little_ boy! Scared of a girl are you?"

Ron stood up in a rush, and fisted his hands, his blue eyes flashing with temper beneath his spiky fringe of ginger hair. "I'm not scared of Hermione! I'm scared _for_ her, you stupid bint!"

"What are you on about?"

Ron closed his eyes and sank back down onto the edge of his bed. "What if I _do_ admit that I have…feelings for her? What if we start going out, and something," he stopped and swallowed audibly. "What if something happens to her? I-I couldn't stand it, Gin. I don't know what I'd do."

Her anger left her immediately. "Oh, Ron," she sighed, and dropped back down beside him. She leaned her head against his shoulder, and stretched an arm across his back, patting his shoulder with her hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't know. I thought you were just being dumb." Maybe she wouldn't charm his hair blonde for New Year's after all…

"Thanks, cheers for the vote of confidence," he mumbled crossly, but rested his head against hers for a moment.

After a long silence, Ginny lifted her head to look at him seriously. "You can't spend your life being afraid of losing her, Ron. Look at Harry's parents. They knew there was a danger, but they went on loving each other anyway. They made the most what time they had together. Look what came of it! Harry – I'd say he was _well_ worth it, wouldn't you? He's an amazing person, a loyal friend, a talented wizard and a fantastic Seeker! And that's what you have to do, too, brother dearest. Take a chance, get a move on! I mean, come on – do you _really_ want Viktor Krum making an unexpected visit in a couple of years, and sweeping an 'unattached' Hermione off her feet? Hm? Because she loves you, but she can't wait around forever for you to get off your bum and admit it back. Life's too short."

"That's a dirty pull, Gin, bringing that prat into this." He smiled lopsidedly, and then stood up and took her by the shoulders. "All right, I'll go talk to her – but maybe you should take your own advice, Gin."

Frowning, she cocked her head to the side and stared at him. "What are you talking about?"

"_Who_ am I talking about, is more the like. Malfoy." Ron's eyes hardened. "If he won't take the hint, then maybe you need to move on. You can do better than him, Gin. He doesn't deserve you."

* * *

Outside in the hall, Draco paused with his hand above the doorknob as he heard voices inside.

He'd long since come to the conclusion that there was no such thing as privacy to be found at the Burrow – he could barely turn a corner in the place without knocking into some Weasley or another.

He'd come up to try and get away from the chaos below stairs – he was far from being used to so many people invading his personal space. It wasn't even so bad at Hogwarts, and there were over a hundred people there.

Most of the time no one dared to come within feet of him, and he liked it that way. But for some bewildering, infuriating reason, Ginny and her family didn't seem to perceive him as being very much of a threat anymore. Even Ron, the person he'd least expected to behave agreeably towards him, had formed a grudging 'amity' of sorts with him. It was disturbing, all of it, and he found he didn't care for it in the least.

He was becoming too comfortable with the unconditional acceptance of the Weasley's – he was actually thinking about making his way back to Hogwarts early, just to escape the clinging _warmness_ of it all.

Of course there was also the part where he was finding it extremely difficult to leave his hands off of the youngest member of the family.

_" – there's nothing going on between us – "_

Draco's ears perked as he caught the snippet of conversation from within. He leaned closer to listen, and soon wished he hadn't…

Ginny shook her head, not liking the turn of the conversation. "No – how many times do I have to tell you, there's nothing going on between us – "

"Come off it, Gin. I've seen the way Hermione looks at me." He flushed slightly. "If that's the look of a girl in love, it's been written all over your face since that day of that pointless field trip."

She began to protest again, but everything just suddenly went flat. She dropped her eyes, and took a shaky breath, cursing at the tears that sprang up. Why did he have to bring it up?

"All right, I admit it. I do love him. I love everything about him, even when he's acting like a total rat. There's something…about him, I can't explain it, and it keeps telling me I'm supposed to be with him. But – he doesn't love me, Ron." Her throat tightened, making it impossible for her to go on, and she felt the hurt she'd been pushing away surge over.

Ron cursed softly, and took her in his arms, and she tucked her head into his hard shoulder as she cried, the pain in her chest making her have to take small, gasping breaths.

"A-and I keep hoping like an idiot. But he doesn't_ - he doesn't even want to try…_"

Outside the door, Draco straightened up, but didn't seem to be able to tear his eyes from the door knob.

There was agonizing twisting in his middle that was getting worse with every little sound of distress Ginny made.

Had he ever really heard her just actually break down and cry?

He felt his throat constrict, and swallowed, finally taking a slow step back from the door as he unwillingly listened to the scene inside.

_"I'm telling you, Gin – he's not gonna change – "_

_"But Ron, I don't want him to change!" _Ginny sniffled loudly.

"_Listen, Gin – I don't what exactly has been going on between the two of you, but – he's not who you think he is."_

Draco felt his hand curl into a fist. If Ron Weasley said one word to hurt her –

_"He's – I mean, he's really, er…experienced."_ the boy finished gruffly.

_"Ron, I know about that already! Harry told me at the beginning of the year that he had – well, a reputation. But he's hasn't been seeing anyone!"_

_"Yeah? And how would you know?"_

"I-I guess I don't…but at least he's been honest about his feelings toward me, and that's a start."

_"Feelings!" _Ron exploded in his usual way after a long pause. _"He doesn't have any bloody feelings! He's like a frigging ice sculpture, Gin! He's – evil, he is, I'm telling ya! This is years of experience dealing with the stupid berk that's speaking – listen to it!"_

Ginny surprised him by laughing brokenly. _"He's not evil,"_ she said simply, with a poignancy that had his chest acing again. _"He can be underhanded, and downright vicious – but he's not evil, Ron."_

_"So what are you going to do, Gin? Just wait forever for him to stop faffing around and realize you've been under that bloody stuck-up nose of his? Life's too short, just like you said."_

There was a very long silence in which Draco realized he was holding his breath, and forced himself to release it with an angry tightening of his jaw. What the hell was he doing? Hanging on every word Ginny Weasley had to say…as if he actually _cared_. He felt his lips curl in self-disgust as he was at last able to turn away from the door – and _that_ was when he heard it. The single word that ripped his supposedly non-existent heart out as surely as if some creature had clawed it straight from his chest.

_"No."

* * *

_

Ginny had managed to get a hold of herself by the time it came to go down and help her mum with setting out dinner. With help from Hermione and a cold, damp cloth, she escaped her eyes looking red and puffy, and dressed carefully in her one nice outfit – a set of long, burnished gold colored robes, which had a flatteringly wide, square cut neckline, and small, antique brass buttons down the front, that she and her mum had found on an old set of robes in the attic. Long, elegant bell shaped sleeves embroidered with tiny brown silk flowers – also liberated from the attic – accentuated her small, fine boned wrists and hands.

As she nervously brushed her hair, she looked over at Hermione, who was dressed in robes of periwinkle blue, which had a lovely heart-shaped cut bodice.

"I don't know, Hermione – do you think it's a bit much, just for dinner?"

"You're mother said 'dress' and she meant it," the older girl said sternly, biting her lip as she brushed her fringe off her forehead and painstakingly pushed another hair-pin into her now gleaming mass of upswept curls.

Ginny laid down her brush and went over to sit next to her friend with a sigh. "I wish I had your hair."

Hermione harrumphed. "No, you don't. You know how long it takes me to get it this way. Most of the time it just looks like hay. You have gorgeous hair, Ginny Weasley." She pushed the last pin in, and stood up to look critically in the mirror.

"Oh, you look ravishing, dearest. Well done!" Exclaimed the mirror gushingly.

Hermione shook her head with a small twist of her lips, and then turned back to Ginny, who was moping.

"What do you think I should do with _my_ hair?" She sighed again. It wasn't as if it matters anyway, how she looked. Ron had been right – she needed to just give up on Draco, really – even if it did take about a million years to get over him…

"Nothing – leave it just as it is," Hermione insisted. She stood back then, and gave her friend a measuring look. "I know just what it needs."

Confused, Ginny stood up and followed after her – but the older girl was back in a moment, a sprig of gold laced green and red holly in her hand. "Hold still." She pushed the sprig into the soft flowing red curls above her ear, and grinned.

"Now you're perfect!" She looked Ginny up and down again, and then took her by the hand and began to lead her out of the room. "I can't wait to see the boys go non-verbal when they see you."

The _boys_ were in a bloody brawl, and anything but non-verbal.

Ginny had been descending the stairs behind Hermione when she saw, in the little view she had of the front door, Ron dragging Draco – or Draco dragging Ron – through it, and outside. Harry moved into sight and hurried after them.

"Oh, I've gone and done it now – quick, move Hermione!" She nearly knocked the other girl over getting past her, and threw open the door, not even hesitating when the night air blasted against her.

"Ron – this isn't what you want to do – it's Christmas Eve for god's sake!" She heard Harry's husky voice call out from nearby.

"Oh, I wanna' do it all right," Ron all but snarled back, and Ginny could envision him rolling back his sleeves. "Look's like I'm finally about to get about seven years worth of outstanding Christmas wishes! You made Ginny cry, and I'm going to kick your ass, Malfoy!"

"Ron, no, you can't use your wand – "

"I'm not using my wand! All I need are my fists!"

"Try it Weasley." Draco's voice rag out coolly in the cold night. "I'm warning you, I'm in no mood for it."

Ginny picked up the skirt of her robes, and nearly broke her neck hopping over icy, fallen branches in the nearly non-existent moonlight. She heard a rustling, and then a loud, meaty crack, and Ron cursing.

"Ron, stop it!" She skidded to a breathless stop around the corner of the house, just in time to see her brother's fist ram into Draco's jaw.

"If you really wanted a fight, you could have just said so, Weasley," the tall blonde growled when he turned back from the blow. "You didn't have to twist my arm."

"I'll twist your frigging arm right out of its bloody socket!" Her brother snapped, and made another lunge, but this time Draco ducked and spun, and came up behind him, grabbing him in a choke-hold.

"You were saying?" He asked Ron in cold, harsh voice.

"Draco, let him go!" Ginny ran forward, just as Ron drove an elbow back into the other boy's ribs.

"Harry, make them stop!" She shouted pleadingly, and Harry took a hesitant step forward before his features hardened, and he arched a brow at her in the near darkness.

"Stop them? Malfoy's finally getting what he deserves – why should I stop them?"

As if to emphasize Harry's words, Ron landed another fist in Draco's stomach.

Gaping at Harry, she bit her lip, and then resolutely charged forward – which proved a very unwise thing to do. Intent on pulling the two apart, she ended up getting a sharp jab on the underside of her chin from her brother's flailing elbow, and got knocked silly. She landed none too gently on her bum in the snow, and as the little white dots that obscured her vision gradually faded away, found herself flat on her back in the icy snow, staring up at the starry black sky. She was too stunned to move.

"Ginny!" Ron's freckled face appeared above her. "Oh, crap – I'm sorry! I didn't mean to do that, honestly – damn it, Malfoy, this is all your fault!"

Ginny opened her mouth to talk and tasted blood – she'd bit her tongue. Hard.

"Bite me, Weasley – I wasn't the one who hit her!" Draco's rapidly bruising face came into view on her opposite side. He actually looked a bit panicked. "Gin, are you all right?"

She was afraid to talk, her mouth was slowly filling up with blood, and so she just nodded.

He started to help her up, but Ron snarled, "Leave off her, Malfoy! She doesn't need you!"

Ginny winced and got to her feet, and felt a tickle of blood run from the corner of her lips.

"Hell, you're bleeding, now!"

"Ginny – "

Feeling nauseous, and embarrassed, Ginny pushed their hands away and made a blind run for the house, past a shocked looking Hermione.

She went straight to her mother, making up some excuse or another about tripping, and she promptly stopped the bruising swelling on her chin with an expert flick of her wand and gave her a familiar, steaming purple potion to ease the pain in her tongue, and help heal the injuries.

"Just rest here for a moment, dearest – I'll go call the boys to help set the table. Dinner's almost ready, though I don't expect you'll be enjoying it much with your tongue like that, poor thing."

Ginny rolled her eyes. It was no problem. She wasn't feeling terribly hungry after seeing all that blood anyway.

Draco and Ron soon made their inevitable appearance in the kitchen, and Ginny saw that Ron didn't have a scratch on him. She gave him a dirty look, feeling peeved. Yep, the hair was definitely going blonde.

Draco wasn't looking as bad as she'd worried he might – there was a slight bruising on his jaw, but that was it – his hair wasn't even ruffled.

Hmmph! Of course it figured that they'd been the one's fighting, and she'd ended up being the one getting smacked around!

Ron looked at her sheepishly, and opened his mouth to speak – but she held up her hand and fixed him with a vehement stare. "Go talk to Hermione – _now_."

He narrowed his eyes. "Later – "

"Now."

He finally took the hint and left, albeit reluctantly, and she was left alone with Draco.

"Are you okay?" His voice was very soft.

She felt of her chin with another wince. "Fine. Well, better, anyway."

He sighed almost shakily, and she looked up at him in surprise. He'd taken up pacing on the stone floor before her, and as usual, his long, loose hair hid his expression from her.

"A-are _you_ okay?"

His unsteady laugh made her frown. He shook his head slowly, and halted in mid-step. "No, I'm not okay. I've completely lost it, in point of fact."

"Draco, what on earth are you – "

In one smoothly executed move, he turned towards her and pinned her in her chair by leaning over her and resting his hands on the arms.

Lips open on a gasp, Ginny stared into intense, troubled gray eyes.

"Um," she stammered, "maybe we should – "

"Quiet." He continued to watch her warily, as if searching her face for something.

Remaining as still as possible, she continued to stare back at him, her nerves jumping. What was he doing?

"You _are_ in love with me, aren't you?" He asked at last, his voice low and resolute.

She could only nod.

"Then I feel sorry for you," he continued unevenly.

Her heart hammered inside her chest.

"You – you know who I am, Ginny. You know what I'm like. I'm not a good person." He dropped onto one knee, gradually, and then took her hands, which were freezing cold.

"Draco – "

"I'll be…honest, with you, Ginny. I-I don't know what it is I'm feeling for you…but I do know I don't want you to give up on me. I do - care about you," he almost choked on the confession, and looked more awkward and uncomfortable than she'd ever seen him. She saw his throat move as he nervously swallowed, and she tugged one of her hands free to touch his cheek.

"I'm really not even sure that what you want is in me to give," he finished in a rough whisper.

A hot tear trickled down her face and Draco reached up to brush it away. "Don't cry."

"A-are you telling me you're willing to try?"

He smirked at her, but its effect was ruined by the unusual sincerity of his expression.

"Only for you, Ginny."

* * *

TBC 


	16. Chapter Sixteen The Sappy Chapter

**The Dragon Rebels**

(**A/N:** Ah - The Decree For The Restriction Of Underage Wizardry. I'm surprised no one has asked me about this since everyone arrived at the Burrow. Well, I wanted to explain why I've decided Draco, Harry, Hermione and Ron wouldn't be able to use their wands away from school, even though they are seventeen. I always just thought they wouldn't really be allowed to use magic until they graduated from Hogwarts – obviously this isn't the case. But, in keeping with this story, it's going to remain that way, so things don't get mixed up. That explained, I want to say sorry for the wait, hope you guys like this, thanks SO much for the helpful reviews, and - 'Happy Holidays'! Lee )

**Chapter Sixteen** - The Sappy Chapter

* * *

"To truly understand another human being, you must gain some insight into the conditions which made him what he is." 

_Margaret Bourke – White_

* * *

It was truly surprising, how little things changed between her and Draco after he'd actually admitted to having _some_ kind of emotional attachment to her. 

Ginny had waited, heart in her throat, for what he would do or say next, but he hadn't said anything. He'd brushed the backs of his knuckles along her cheek, and then again down her jaw line, making her lean into his touch, and then –

"Trivets! What the bloody hell is a trivet? How am I supposed to find something I don't even recognize – Oi, Malfoy! Don't just stand there, do something useful, will ya? Least you could do, help us set the bleedin' table – oh, hi Gin."

Fred had happened. Fred had happened, and off Draco had gone, eyes frozen over, shoulders set and spine as stiff as a board.

Ginny had seriously been contemplating murder, sitting there, bereft, and a funny ringing in her ears.

The shock of having an almost totally open Draco before her, and then staring at his back as he departed the kitchen, had made her angry – and furious enough – to make her fingers itch for her wand.

Ron wasn't the only one who's hair was going blonde for New Year's, she decided, pasting a pleasant smile on her face, and she stood up from her chair to help her brother find 'the ruddy trivets'.

* * *

Dinner was a lively affair, despite the fact that Draco wouldn't even look at her, and Hermione and Ron seemed as if they still weren't talking to each other. Ron was slouching in his chair, barely touching his plate, eyes narrowed on Hermione as she pointedly ignored him and carried on a rather one sided conversation with a distracted looking Harry. 

Frustrated beyond the telling of it, Ginny made sure to laugh, smile, and speak when spoken to. She forced herself to eat, but her favorite dumpling carrot soup seemed tasteless this year, the turkey dry and grainy. She kept watching Draco from the corner of her eye. She never had been able to read him easily, he was always so cold and guarded. Unfortunately she had no trouble whatsoever reading exactly what he was thinking just then.

Her throat was so tight she could barely stand it, by the time she finally managed to catch his hooded, icy eyes with hers. Charlie was in the middle of a tale about his latest dragon acquisition, and everyone's attention seemed to be thankfully trained on him – and she was glad, because what she saw in Draco's eyes made her lips tremble, and tears well up, for just an instant before she forced her stare away.

Confusion, fury – they were etched into that sharp gaze. He was so at odds with what he knew, here, among her family, and what she was making him feel, and he was obviously hating it.

There was something else there too, in his eyes, that tested her acting abilities to their limits. Something that made her chest ache with hopelessness and hurt.

Regret.

* * *

That night, long after everyone else had gone up to their warm beds, Draco sat sprawled against the pillows before the fire in the Weasley's darkened living room, brooding, contemplating the brightly colored candles on the Christmas tree, and also what he'd told Ginny only a few hours earlier, before they'd been so rudely interrupted by her idiotically grinning brother. 

Draco glared into the dying flames, cursing his moment of weakness. He wanted to take it back - he had ever since he'd been stupid enough to say it. He'd had no business saying what he had, being who he was, even if he _had_ meant it – but then he always had been possessed of that certain perversity of behavior, that need to do certain things just because he knew he shouldn't.

But what had he said to her, after all? It wasn't as if he'd confessed his undying love. He didn't love her. He wouldn't – and it wasn't as if he'd asked her to bloody marry him. Ginny knew know how it stood between them.

Yes, she knew – and it was hurting her.

Draco dropped his head back on one of the pillows, and closed his eyes, clenching his jaw and wincing at the bruised feeling of it .

He'd seen her face at dinner, and known she'd realized he was regretting every stammering, stupid, no doubt Potter-ish word he'd said to her in the kitchen. He'd seen her face nearly crumple, her soft brown eyes go dark and wet with realization and pain – he'd seen her small hands, nearly hidden by the exquisitely cut sleeves of her robes, fist around her linen napkin in her lap, watched the knuckles go white, before she'd ducked her head, defensively hiding her profile from him with the fall of her red curls.

When, moments later, her father had asked her something about school, she'd looked up to answer him with a false, cheerful expression pasted onto her face, looking to everyone but Draco as if she hadn't a single care in the world. He'd known better though. He knew all about false expressions. He also knew what could come from hiding emotions.

Why wouldn't he? He'd been doing it since he'd been old enough to understand that emotional attachments only brought pain, and caring about someone or something, was considered a weakness.

Ginny was slowly starting to build a wall around herself. She'd displayed that tonight with the ease with which she'd snapped herself out of her emotional state. Little Ginny Weasley wasn't scared of him anymore, wasn't anywhere near as innocent as she'd been at the beginning of the year when he'd found her all alone on the train. She also wasn't anywhere near as happy, either.

And it was all his fault.

Draco closed his eyes against the twinge in his chest – it was fast becoming familiar, and he hated it. He tried to hate Ginny for making him feel it…but all he could manage was a strong resentment.

He brought up one hand, curling it into a fist around a handful of his shirt, over that aching place in his chest, and rolled onto his side, resting his head on his arm, burying his other hand in his hair.

There it was, that bloody guilt again. Creeping up on him like a vengeful Death Eater.

Draco gave a soft, derisive, snort of laughter into his shirtsleeve. He rather wished that was the only threat he was dealing with. A vengeful Death Eater he could handle. A Death Eater would be easy, in comparison.

Dealing with Ginny Weasley was fast becoming another matter entirely.

Draco groaned, rubbing the back of his neck beneath his hair. As if anything was ever _easy_ anymore. Of course, he didn't really trust anything that was 'easy'. His father had taught him that. Things were better off being difficult. _Easy_ was dangerous. _Easy _could get you very dead, very fast in the dark part of the Wizarding world he'd grown up in.

He found himself wondering when everything had changed. When it had all ceased being just a means to an end. There were too many instances to count. The day of the last Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin stood out in particular. When he'd turned from the heated confrontation with Crabbe, and had seen the glint of his necklace at her throat.

How many mornings since he'd left it for her had he woken up thinking about it encircling her throat, or if she'd even kept it?

Draco recalled how a gust of wind had blown her hair across her eyes, and Potter had come up to stand behind her then, casting a shadow over the gleaming silver ornament, and he'd found it a rather mocking gesture, as if someone from above were trying to send him a very pointed hint.

He remembered then, how he'd almost said to hell with it, with everything, when he'd looked back up at Ginny's face, her satiny peaches and cream complexion, and was, just for an instant, nearly overcome with the sudden need to feel her arms wrapped around him, with the fiery drape of her hair chasing away the hateful, promising glares early piercing his back with their intensity, and the frigid winter chill. But his pride had won out in the end just as it always had; his ingrained need to be feared, respected, and in control of everything.

Slowly drowning in a sudden, very unfamiliar, very unwelcome pool of self-pity, Draco was pressing his fist almost hurtfully against his heart, as if to still it's beating, when a slight rustling sound caught his ear, and he peered out from beneath his lashes to catch a glimpse of a white ruffle flash past the doorway into the darkness beyond.

He listened as light footsteps entered the kitchen, and then he heard Ginny humming to herself, beneath her breath as she returned down the hall, but the sound was very light and small, the old song sad, and off-key.

When he saw her enter the living room out of the corner of his eye, and being the rather sneaky sort he was, he quickly feigned sleep.

Her footsteps, muffled by the carpet, paused, presumably when she caught sight of him, and then there came the noise of her setting something – a glass, perhaps – down on one of the rickety old tables nearby.

The night was so silent and still, he fancied he could hear her breathing, the sound coming light and jerky as she drew near. The logs in the fireplace popped and snapped, and he nearly blinked in reaction.

"Draco?" she finally asked in a breathy, nervous whisper that he suddenly wanted to feel against his ear. "I'm sorry, did I disturb you? I just forgot – we er, usually set out juice and biscuits, you know, for St. Nicholas – I'm sure that sounds incredibly stupid – oh…are you asleep?"

Draco had to kill the urge to roll his eyes. That much should have been obvious. He very well might have made some cutting comment, if he hadn't been so curious about what she might do, or say, thinking he was indeed asleep. She'd probably say something stupid, profess her undying love, or something equally Gryffindor-ish, and painfully lame, he told himself silently, trying to inject some venom into his thoughts of her. Of course it didn't work…

A soft, warm sigh brushed over his forehead then, as she settled down onto her knees beside him; he felt the soft cotton lace ruffle of her gown brush his fingers where they lay on the pillows at his hip.

White lace and ruffles – so childlike. He should have known. He'd nearly bet his entire inheritance that her gown was made of pink flannel, plaid or something similar.

What she did next though surprised him more than anything ever had in his entire life. The feeling of having a blanket drawn over him, and tucked warmly beneath his chin was a completely foreign one. It was a strange sensation, both complex, and oddly simple, all at once. Hard to describe…soothing, he supposed, if he had to give it a name.

Draco didn't think he could ever remember anyone tucking him in, or even covering him up. There was that bloody unsettling rush of warmth again. He fought the urge to growl.

A small, soft hand hesitantly touched his hair, across the long fringe brushing across his eyes, and gently swept the strands back. Draco nearly gave himself away catching his breath when he felt a jumpy tremble in her warm fingertips.

Within mere moments of her stroking her fingers back through his hair, her nails ever so lightly scratching against his scalp, he was lying, completely relaxed as he'd never been, and utterly careless to whatever the future might bring.

He fell asleep at that point, though he'd been determined not to, just after Ginny's silky lips lingeringly brushed his forehead.

* * *

"You've been down to see him, then?" Hermione's soft voice asked. 

Ginny jumped guiltily as she let herself into her room, and then she bit her lip, and closed the door.

"Well? Did you speak with him? Did you talk to Draco?"

"Draco, Draco – it's always about Draco! Don't talk to me about him. I can't stand to be reminded of him right now." Ginny made straight for her bed, trying to ignore the tingling in her hand from the feel of Draco's hair sliding through her fingers. She'd done her best to keep from going to him, but even in his sleep he'd been thoroughly irresistible. Lines had been creasing his brow, and he'd been in such a protective position – almost as if something were hurting him. He'd seemed so tense, even in his sleep, and all she'd wanted was to make him relax so he could rest…

"Ginny…are you sure you're quite well? You weren't yourself, earlier."

"And you were, Hermione?" she asked wryly. "I saw you two at dinner. What did Ron say that got to you so?"

"Well, I'll tell you, I don't wish to repeat it! He was being positively hateful." The sheets shifted noisily as Hermione moved around in her bed. "At the very least, he made an _attempt_ to control that temper of his, before he opened his mouth."

"Oh, go on. You know how Ron is – tomorrow he'll be of a completely different mind," said Ginny, burrowing gratefully into her covers.

"_Ha!_ Do you want to know what that little bugger said to me?"

Ginny suppressed a giggle, despite her own misery, and grinned into the darkness. "What?"

"I'm standing at the front window, by the door, right? Ron walks up behind me, and says, "Oi, Hermione, Ginny reckons we should stop arguing and start snogging – wanna' go out with me?""

"Oh, no…" Ginny groaned. "He didn't." So much for their little discussion earlier!

"He did, all right."

"Well, I certainly didn't tell him to go about it that way. What did you do?"

"I told him to go away, and come back to talk to me when he could talk about his feelings for me himself," said Hermione sternly. "Honestly, what girl would melt beneath the words, "Oi, my sister says we'd get on well together?""

"Poor Ron," Ginny couldn't help but laugh, then, especially at her friend's impression of her brother's low, gruff voice.

"So. What did Draco say? You weren't very happy at dinner."

Ginny swallowed, and then wet her lips. "Well…he told me, after he and Ron had come back in, not in so many words, of course…he admitted he did have feelings for me."

"But he didn't tell you he loved you?" asked the other girl quietly.

"This is Draco we're talking about. I almost could have fooled myself into thinking that he had, though, as intense as it got. I was so happy, Hermione, and it lasted all of about five minutes."

"What happened?"

"Fred." Ginny said flatly, as if that explained everything.

"Oh…I suppose that clammed the git right up, then, didn't it? I can't see Malfoy being very open about his feelings in front of one of your brothers."

"Got it in one," sighed Ginny. "And then, at dinner, I could see denial just written all over his face. He wouldn't say one word to me. He couldn't stand the fact that he'd opened up to me – I suppose I'll be lucky if he ever even 'looks' at me again."

After a long moments silence, Hermione spoke from the other side of the room. "Well, it's Christmas Day, nearly…and miracles are supposed to happen on Christmas, right?"

Ginny rolled onto her side, yanking her blankets over her head as she settled down and closed her tired eyes.

"Miracles. Right."

* * *

_"Oi, pea brain! 'Choo doin' on the floor?"_

"Wake up, Malfoy! You're blocking the presents!"

"He's not movin', George – d'you reckon he's dead?"

"Naw. We couldn't get that fortunate – 'sides, our ickle Ginnykins would be heartbroken – can't have that."

Draco awoke to a not so subtle nudge at his ribs, and groaned at the stiffness in his muscles from having slept on the floor all night. He opened his eyes with a weak attempt at a glare, and sat up to avoid being trampled to death by the Weasley males.

"What the hell are all of you doing up?" He looked around, and cursed. It was still dark! "The bloody sun isn't even up yet, are you insane?"

"Waking up early is half the fun." Ron said as he yawned and dropped to his knees beside the tree to dig around the gifts that had appeared.

"Then you and I have two very different definitions for the word 'fun'." Draco grumbled, impatiently sweeping his hair out of his eyes, tucking the long strands behind his ears.

Harry who followed after the Weasley's, eyed him, clearly thinking, 'Oh, are you still here?' "Oh, sorry, Malfoy – upset about missing the ritual virgin sacrifices they have back home at the holidays? Feeling a bit homesick are you?"

"Really, Potter," said Percy warningly, his curly red hair sticking up in every direction possible.

Draco tensed, and then shrugged, not rising to the bait. "Not really. What can I say, Potter? You've seen one ritual virgin sacrifice, you've seen them all." He paused, then narrowed his eyes on the other boy with an evil smirk. "I suppose, if I get too bored I could always offer you up as a sacrifice, Potter. Fit the bill, don't you?"

The others snickered good naturedly at his inference, while Harry's green eyes glared at him through his shaggy black fringe.

"Honestly – the things you lot talk about," came a yawning voice from the doorway.

"Hey, Mum, Dad…what are you doing up?"

"Well, your father and I were awake, anyway…" Mrs. Weasley smiled secretively and pinched her suddenly blushing husband's side. Mr. Weasley coughed self-consciously, and tugged at the knot in the belt of his worn bathrobe.

"Ugh." Bill shuddered and rolled his eyes, producing a strip of leather to tug his sleep mussed mass of red hair back into its customary ponytail. "You people are parents – don't you know that's illegal?"

Charlie only laughed.

"We didn't need to know that," Fred and George said at the same time.

"You weren't – oh, somebody kill me," Ron groaned, making a face. "What _were_ you thinking? You want to scar me for life? No offense, Harry."

* * *

Ginny and Hermione descended the stairs to the sound of laughter and ripping paper. 

At the entrance to the living room, Ginny paused, rubbing eyes still half closed from sleep, and then self-consciously pulled at the front of her slightly ratty pink and yellow bathrobe. She caught at Hermione's elbow.

"Maybe we should get dressed, first," she told her friend in a whisper, nervously motioning to the rumpled, uncombed hair falling down her back, and over her shoulders.

"We're properly covered," Hermione commented defensively. "I'll guarantee you the boys aren't even dressed yet, either. Just _relax_, Ginny, it's Christmas! Besides, if Draco and Ron can't stand to see us looking less than perfect just this once, then they don't deserve us!"

Making a weak face, Ginny balked again, but Hermione grabbed her hand and tugged her into the living room after her. She stumbled in noisily, flushing in embarrassment as every head turned her way – including Draco, who was already fully dressed. She shot a glare at Hermione who gave a sheepish shrug and walked in among the paper wrappings to settle down on the floor between Harry, and Ron, who smiled at her nightclothes with a funny sort of goofy look on his freckled face.

Ginny straightened her back, shaking her hair from her eyes, and managed to stick a small smile on her face as she was greeted by her family. She completely ignored Draco.

If he'd thought she'd looked lovely the night before – her morning _dishabille_, and sleep flushed, freckled cheeks made him want to do and say things that would most likely get him killed and mangled by her brothers, all of whom were present.

Draco could barely manage to take his eyes off her, and his stare was bordering on the point of rudeness when her father spoke to him, and he found himself with a wrapped package in his hands.

He was staring at the gaudy green and red wrapping paper when he felt Ginny sit down beside him, though he felt the only reason she sat in that particular spot was because it was the only space left available.

Draco looked at that present for so long that Ginny finally spoke, sounding exasperated.

"Well?"

He slid his eyes over to look at her after a moment. "Well, what?"

She shook her head, and the warm scent of the soap she'd used the night before caught his attention.

"Well, aren't you going to open it, silly?"

Draco watched her for a second longer, and then glanced back at the gift in his lap. "I don't know," he stated lowly. "Check the tag. Is it from Fred and George?"

"Draco," she sighed. "So bloody suspicious all the time – it's from my parents. Open it!"

He did, and inside found a rather unsightly green sweater with a silver 'D' across the front.

Ginny giggled from beside, him, and her hair brushed his shoulder. "That's Mum for you."

"Er…thank you, Mrs. Weasley," he said politely, ignoring the snickers around him.

"Here, open the others," Ginny told him, dumping a few more gifts near his feet.

Draco eyed them disdainfully. "Others…?"

Ginny ended up with clothes from her parents, including the expected Weasley sweater, Sugarquills from Ron, a package of joke envelopes with varying sayings written loudly across them, from Fred and George, a book with tips on how to succeed in professional Quidditch from Hermione, new brown, dragon hide leather gloves from Charlie, who gave them to her with a pointed wink, and a pair of small silver earrings from Percy. From Harry she received a gorgeous silver brush, comb and mirror set for her vanity, and from Bill, a pair soft rusty brown, fleece lined leather pants that made her mother gasp and mutter chastisingly under her breath.

"Charlie told me to get them," Bill said, beaming, ignoring his mother's reaction. "He said if those didn't keep you warm, nothing would."

Ginny eyed the pants with curiosity, but then shrugged. "I love them, Bill. Thanks!"

Later after everyone had wandered off to find breakfast, Ginny was setting off up the stairs to get dressed when a disgruntled looking Draco caught her.

"Ginny, wait…I wanted to give you my present."

Frowning, she turned to look at him. He was standing on the steps below her. His clothes were a bit wrinkled from having slept in them all night, and his long, silvery-blonde hair was straggling in his fierce, pale eyes, but she didn't think he could look any more excruciatingly handsome.

Wait, had he just said - ?

"Present?" Draco had bought her a present?

"You didn't have to get me anything – "

"I know I didn't, Weasley," he snapped, thrusting a large, flat box at her. "Just open the bloody thing."

Just as quickly as he'd appeared, he disappeared, leaving Ginny standing on the stairs, looking bewildered, feeling fuzzy and warm, clutching a cream brocade paper wrapped box with a magnificent golden bow adorning the top.

The gold tag, written in green, slashing ink, read:

'To: Ginny – Stay warm.' The 'From:' space was blank.

Ginny sat on her bed, alone in her room, and opened the gift carefully, peeling away the thick, expensive paper inch by inch, until a glossy white box was revealed underneath. Her mouth fell open when she opened that – inside, under several layers of iridescent tissue, lay a long coat, made of sleek, soft brown leather that she recognized as being nearly identical to the black one Draco had worn that she'd been drooling over.

Hardly daring to breathe, Ginny tugged the coat from the box, and pulled off her robe, sticking her arms into the silky lining. After a long, thoughtful minute, she pulled the coat back off, and got dressed, only she tugged on her new leather pants, her boots, a new long sleeved cream jumper, and then the coat again. She pulled a brush through her hair, and smoothed it behind her ears as she put it in Percy's silver filigree earrings.

She looked hesitantly into her mirror, then, and swallowed hard, not recognizing the girl who stood there.

* * *

Draco had a mouth full of pancakes when Ginny entered the kitchen – and he promptly choked. 

He was happy to see Potter do the exact same thing – it made him feel less stupid.

Wiping his mouth with his napkin, and gulping down some juice, Draco could only stare at her. Where had the charming, fluffy little ragamuffin from early that morning gone?

"Looking good, Gin!" Bill called, and Charlie nodded his approval from around his coffee mug.

"My daughter, wrapped head to toe in _leather_ – I never thought I'd see the day," Mrs. Weasley commented in a scandalized undertone.

Ron was scowling at Harry, whose eyes were fairly bulging, and whose hand was still clutching the syrup he'd been about to pass to him.

"Wow, you look great Ginny," Hermione said, a smile tugging at her lips as she shot a look at Draco.

He was still trying to form words when Ginny walked right up to him, revealing that she had her Firebolt in gloved hand, which had been hidden behind her back. The buttery soft leather she wore clung tightly across her slim, softly rounded hips, and the folds of the coat he'd given her fell open over the soft cream fabric stretching across her full breasts. His eyes were drifting upwards when he saw his necklace laying out over the rolled neck of her jumper, where it gleamed in the morning sunlight coming through the mismatched, stained glass windows lining the kitchen. It was just there, for everyone to see, and it just struck him in an odd way.

And everyone did see it, when her mother drew attention to it a minute later.

"Ginny, what is that awful thing round your neck?"

Every eye in the room went straight to the serpent pendant.

"Oh, it was a gift," Ginny said unconcernedly, and she smiled – right at him. "I …like it."

That was when Draco realized, admitting with a awestruck, stunned reluctance, that Ginny Weasley had finally just completely, undeniably stolen his heart.

* * *

TBC 

(**A/N:** Aww. Leather. Another D/G required cliché. It's just not D/G without it, lol. Sorry if this wasn't the greatest chapter guys, and it's also not as long as I was wanting. Was it sappy enough? Yeesh, things have been crazy with the holidays and all.

Wow…it's hard to think about the fact that this story is only a few chapters away from being complete. :sniffle: Weird. Next chapter is probably going to be darker, and angsty – but there _will_ be a happy ending later! _Promise! And Draco is NOT going completely mushy! _:ahem: Anyway, thanks again for reading, and for reviewing. I _really_ appreciate you guys. Oh, and keep an eye out for the new chapter of Potter Vs. Malfoy, it should be up soon. As soon as I re-write the half of it I accidentally _deleted_ just before my laptop cut off! GRRR-ARGH :Sigh: Take care! - Lee )


	17. Chapter 17 A Little Change of Decoration

The Dragon Rebels

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing – but I'll take anything J.K. will give me if she gets bored. How about it, Jo darlin'? Huh, huh? Didn't think so. It was worth a try tho…

**Chapter Seventeen -**A Little Change of Decoration

* * *

The beleaguered looking owl showed up at noon, shortly after Draco had very carefully refused Ginny's offer to go outside after breakfast. He'd decided he needed time to himself to think about his now undeniable feelings towards Ginny – but the owl found him still sitting in the Weasley's now quiet, warm kitchen, staring unseeing into the flames in the large hearth, listening with half an ear to Mrs. Weasley's inane chatter as she went about her day as usual.

An insistent, sharp tapping at one of the mismatched, stained-glass windows caught his attention, and he turned first his eyes, and then his head, to look blankly at the dark form perched behind the frosted, snow-laced panes…

Draco was hard pressed not to throw the missive the familiar owl carried in its sharp beak directly into the fire. Cold fingers of dread walked up his spine as he forced himself to casually flick open the waxy green seal, and unroll the fine parchment. His eyes studied the symbols inside carefully, swiftly picking out the 'anonymous' message hidden within.

Did you really assume things would be ended this easily? You've shamed your family one too many times, boy. Come home at once, or things will end very badly for you – and the girl.

Well, from the looks of it, he'd done what he'd set out at the beginning of the year to do – Lucius was in a black rage that he'd been seen walking in public with the Weasley clan, and Harry Potter, no less. His father sounded furious enough to try and disown him – if he hadn't already done so. He sounded furious enough to commit murder…and Draco was suddenly more scared than he'd ever been in his life, more scared even than of loving Ginny Weasley.

He was scared _for_ her.

"Stay, Hades," he ordered the exhausted eagle owl after he lifted his eyes from the threatening, unsigned letter, when it made as if to take flight again in the slowly building snowstorm.

The owl paused, and held out one sharp clawed foot in question.

"No, I don't have any reply – stay and rest until the storm is over," he told his former 'pet' in a carefully even, emotionless voice, very aware of Mrs. Weasley casting him concerned glances from the corner of her eye. He absently ran a finger over the bird's damp, sleek back. "Stay," he ordered it again, but the well-trained Hades ignored him, and took flight again, circling once around Draco's head before he disappeared out of the kitchen window.

"Were you expecting a letter, dearest?" Mrs. Weasley asked cautiously from where she bent over a stain on one of Mr. Weasleys robes at the kitchen table. Only Molly Weasley would still be working on household chores on Christmas day.

Draco crushed the rolled up parchment in his fist, and shook his head, eyes on the leaden gray sky where the dark owl had disappeared. "No."

"Is – is everything all right?"

He smiled tightly, still facing the windows looking out into the back yard. Ginny was out there, flying up in the paddock on the hill - with _Potter_.

"Draco?"

"Everything is fine…not to worry, Mrs. Weasley." He turned his head to gift her with brilliant, charming, and entirely _false_ smile so fake it hurt his face to wear it.

"Everything is…perfect."

* * *

She could barely see through the snow on their way back to the house.

Brooms balanced across their shoulders, Ginny and Harry slowly made their way down the steep hill from the paddock.

They hadn't been out for very long, but to Ginny it had seemed almost like an eternity. First of all, she'd been disappointed by Draco's too polite refusal to go outside with her, and by his lack of reaction to the fact that she'd openly revealed that she wore a necklace that was unmistakably _his_. She found little satisfaction in the fact that his pale eyes had widened at the sight of her in her new clothes – that small inconsistency of character had been quickly remedied, the indefinable expression in his eyes replaced by a familiar icy shield.

Perversely, Ginny had only shrugged at his refusal to accompany her, and had turned hopeful eyes on Harry, who'd been staring, presumably stunned at the sight of the snake ornament outlined against the collar of her ivory jumper. She'd had to say his name twice before his eyes finally lifted to meet hers. The look he'd given her had been so brief she didn't know what to make of it, but she almost could have sworn he'd looked let down, hurt…

Harry must have known she wanted him to come with her though, because he'd stood up without touching his breakfast, and left the room, only to return moments later with his cloak and broomstick.

Ron had eyed the silver snake suspiciously before the knowledge of where he'd seen it before seemed to come to him, and he'd opened his mouth in outrage before Hermione had grabbed his hand, and with a hurried excuse, tugged him, protesting, from the room.

Ginny had left the kitchen and her bewildered older brothers and parents without another look at the still Draco, and had waited outside for the tarrying Harry, pacing a impatient path in the calf-deep snow.

Harry had met her soon after, and they'd made a their way up the hill together in silence.

Ginny looked at him as they once again reached the back yard – he'd been quiet for a very long while, his few responses when he'd talked to her, whilst they were flying, sounding forced and altogether unenthusiastic.

She stopped him with a gloved hand on his arm before they reached the back door.

"Say it," she told him emphatically.

Harry looked down at the hand on his black cloaked arm before he dropped his broom with atypical roughness to his side, the finely trimmed twigs in its tail bristling the snow.

"Say what?" he asked evasively, not quite meeting her eyes, though the deep displeasure in his husky tone was evident enough.

"Say how much you hate me right now. Tell me how stupid I am."

Harry's green eyes, startlingly bright against the backdrop of pristine white surrounding them, snapped up to meet hers. "I don't hate you, Ginny – but you _are_ incredibly stupid."

To her own astonishment, she laughed at this. "Are you terribly angry with me? I mean, if you were feeling betrayed by my bringing him here for the holidays, you must want to _kill_ me for having fallen in love with him – " Harry caught her by surprise, and dropped his broom, taking her shoulders in his grip and dragging her forward to _kiss_ her.

Ginny dropped her own Firebolt from her shoulder in shock as his cold, soft lips brushed over hers in a gentle, lingering caress that was at odds with the tight hold of his fingers on her coat.

The kiss was over almost before it had begun, though. She stared up at him, lips slightly parted.

Harry watched her calmly over the tops of his glasses, his dark brows arched, obviously waiting for her reaction.

All she could think to say was a completely inane, "I said 'kill', not _'kiss'_ – "

He grinned at her reluctantly, and Ginny realized she was witnessing the first real 'Harry' smile she'd seen in weeks, if not months. It was that carefree white grin of his that had once made her melt into a helplessly clumsy, mindless lump…but now, while it did make her heart beat faster, it only warmed her cheeks, and made her return it with a friendly smile.

"Why?" She shook her head in wonderment at his actions.

Harry's grin faded into a wry grimace. "Ginny…you have to ask?"

"You…_like_ me?"

Something more burned in his eyes, but he didn't say the words he was thinking of, out loud.

Ginny closed her eyes momentarily against a blast of winter wind and large, sharp snowflakes. She didn't know what to say to him…a flurry of memories caught at her – the way he'd looked at her, as if startled, in the café on that field trip, and later, when she'd caught him gazing at her so intently in the forest…his dismay when she voiced her intentions to bring Draco home for the holidays, Draco's too personal jab at him on the sleigh, his abnormally snide comments whenever Draco's name came up…

When she opened her eyes again, she saw that Harry had retrieved his broom, and was now standing a safe distance away, regarding her with a resigned look from beneath his damp, messy black fringe. The wind caught at the fringed ends of his Gryffindor scarf, and tossed them back over his shoulder.

"Harry – "

"It's all right," he told her quietly. He made as if he might turn away, and then he suddenly turned back on her, his expression unusually fierce – it was the face he got when he was in the middle of a heated battle for the Snitch with Draco, she documented with no little confusion.

"If he hurts you, I'll kill him, Ginny," he said promisingly, and she saw his gloved fingers twist harshly around the handle of his Firebolt II, heard the diamond-hard polished wood creak threateningly. "I can't believe I actually _told_ you to pay any attention to him at all at the beginning of the year; maybe if I hadn't, then – " he made a sharp, cutting motion in the air with the flat of his hand, and actually bared his teeth as if in frustration. "If he does anything to harm you, _ever_, I'll put him at your feet where he belongs."

Ginny fought a laugh – Draco would be dead ten times over, then, if Harry knew just how often he 'hurt' her.

"I really wish you wouldn't," she said carefully. "I think he loves me…in his own way."

"Oh, _that's_ a comfort!" Harry clamped his lips shut, and turned his head to one side studying their footsteps, side by side, in heavy fall of snow – they were already rapidly becoming filled in, disappearing.

"I don't think you should trust him." He muttered after a moment of the wind gusting roughly against them.

"I don't," Ginny told him thoughtfully, plucking her billowing hair out of her eyes.

He looked back at her, eyes shadowed by his heavy black lashes. "Let me get this straight – you're in _love_ with Malfoy – but you don't trust him? Must make for a dead interesting relationship."

"If you could call what we have a 'relationship'," she sighed ruefully. "It's one step forward, two steps back, with him…but when we are together, when we're alone…he's like a completely different person. It's amazing, the side of himself he shows me. His eyes are so…_soulful_, sometimes, Harry." She ignored the derisive snort he didn't bother to try hiding. "I can't imagine not being close to him, not _seeing_ him – even when he's acting like he couldn't care less if I even ever existed."

"But you – " Harry cut himself off with a harshly bitten curse. He dropped his head, and gave it a bewildered shake. "How can you _let_ him treat you that way, Ginny?" He took a few angry, shuffling steps back to her, kicking up fluffy snow that blanketed the hem of his full cloak. "If you were mine, I'd - "

"But I'm not," she felt compelled to remind him. "I'm not yours, Harry…and Merlin knows, I _love_ you, but not like I used to. I grew up, I'm not that lost little girl following you around anymore. I'm not even that shy, awkward thing that hid behind you whenever we saw Draco at the beginning of the year. I've changed so much just since the beginning of the year, and I'm who I am now, _because_ of Draco."

Harry stepped so close she feel his warm breath on her chilled cheeks. His striking eyes moved back and forth over her face, searching her own for an endless minute.

"You don't feel anything for me, anymore?"

The calm question caught her unawares. "I-I feel _everything_ for you, Harry. I don't know how to describe it, but what I…feel for Draco is that, magnified a hundred times over. I'm sor – "

"_Don't_." Harry took her hand, and squeezed it a bit too hard, the intense expression on his face fading into a reassuring, regretful smile. "Don't say you're sorry. You don't have _anything_ to be sorry about."

She looked at him hopelessly, feeling a complete heel. She swallowed, and returned the pressure on his hand, still hardly believing what he'd just revealed to her. "I guess I should go in."

He didn't let go of her hand, and she looked at him questioningly.

"I…have something of yours."

Ginny frowned, watching as he set his broom aside, and used his free hand to pull something from an inside pocket of his cloak.

Harry cleared his throat roughly, and she noticed his hand tremble as he slowly removed

his fingers from around hers, and placed an object in her palm, curling her fingers around it.

Ginny opened her hand and looked down.

A bit of crystal hung on a frayed silver ribbon rested on the leather of her glove.

"My _pendant_!" She gaped at the tattered fabric, and the scratched crystal, and then stared up at Harry. "Where did you find it!"

He turned an odd shade of pink and reached up to rub the back of his neck. "Out on the pitch – the first practice after the Ravenclaw match." He looked guilty and sheepish at the same time. "I thought it was the Snitch – it was glinting like mad in the snow. Needless to say, I need more practice."

"You – you've kept it? All this time?" Ginny rolled her eyes. "Of course you have, you didn't have any idea it was mine – "

"Actually, I did."

Pushing a strand of tickling hair from the corner of her lips, Ginny gave her head a shake.

"I don't understand – "

"I'd seen it on you, a couple of times," he confessed tightly, closely examining the toes of his boots. "It, uh…it fell out of your uniform during practice once, and then again during the Ravenclaw match. I guess that's when it must have fallen."

"You…knew? You knew, all this time? That…that it was from Draco?"

"Yes."

"And you kept it?"

"Please don't be cross with me, Ginny…look, I just…I only kept it because I hated the thought of anything belonging to Draco touching you – I didn't trust it. I thought he might have used an entrancing enchantment or something on it – "

She startled him by laughing again. "I'm not cross with you, Harry. You were just looking out for me, and I appreciate it. Unfortunately it wasn't anything as simple as an entrancement charm that made me fall for Draco." Her eyes twinkled, brandy-brown and warm in the cold gray light. "Thank you so much for giving it back. Draco still thinks I lobbed it in the rubbish when we had, a er, 'disagreement'."

"I'm sorry it's in such sad shape – I think it was trod on a good bit before I found it."

Ginny looked at the crystal more closely, and discovered a deep gouge across it, nearly obliterating the tiny white etching of the dragon that had been on its surface. "It doesn't matter. Maybe I can find a charm to fix it, or something; the ribbon can be easily replaced." She rubbed a thumb across the surface, and then fisted her hand around it again. "Thank you for finding it, Harry."

"You're welcome." He looked relieved that she wasn't upset with him.

"Friends, then?" Ginny hesitantly held out her hand again.

His relaxed look crumbled only slightly as he pulled her into an unexpected hug, exhaling, and burying his face in her hair as if he couldn't help himself.

"_Always._"

* * *

Ginny entered the warmth of the burrow gratefully, having left Harry alone outside, at his own insistence. She'd done so willingly, guiltily eager to allow him the time he needed to mask his emotions – and she knew that he would do just that, because Harry would never presume to _inconvenience_ anyone with his own feelings…

She slowly removed her gloves, long coat and boots, and walked into the now empty kitchen in search of a cup of hot cocoa. The pendant she carried in her trouser pocket, wanting to keep it as close as possible until she could see about fixing it.

Her movements were practiced, swift, as she lifted a chipped brown mug down from a cupboard, and poured hot water from the kettle already warming on the old iron woodstove. On second thought, she brought down another mug, thinking to mix a hot drink up for Harry as well, for when he came in.

Ginny had to sit down before she was done though – she realized she couldn't see, suddenly, for the tears in her eyes, and carefully put the battered tin kettle down. She plopped down ungracefully in a chair at the table, near the ice-frosted windows, and scrubbed a hand over her cheek, which came away wet.

Stupid, she thought, staring at the dampness on her fingertips through blurry eyes. Harry was right. She _was_ being stupid, but she couldn't help herself.

She wished she could have just fallen for Harry after all – for all that he was probably just as complicated a fellow as Draco, he was honest in his intentions, and would give of his heart and emotions freely.

But Harry wasn't _Draco_.

Ginny, feeling sorry for herself, and for Harry, buried her face in the crook of her elbow on the tabletop, and cried silently, careful not to disturb the comfortable stillness of the afternoon air, and invite unwanted questions.

Draco stood in the untouched snow of the front yard, hands clasped at the small of his back as he watched the odd occurrence of the pink and orange setting sun appear through the heavy snow fall – odd because the sun hadn't made a direct appearance through the gray clouds in days.

He was waiting for Ginny to come out and join him. He'd left her a note beneath her door, earlier, after she returned from her outing with Potter.

Draco wasn't stupid – and he wasn't blind, either. He knew something had happened between them out there; he just didn't know what.

He watched the light from the sun wash the edges of the heavy gray clouds with shades of vibrant red-orange, torn between wanting to murder Potter, and decorate the Christmas tree artfully with his entrails, and pouncing on Ginny as soon as she showed her face, and dragging her off to find some suitably distant tree to shag her up against before Potter ever laid another finger on her.

A crunching noise on the crusty top layer of snow made him lift his head slightly – but he didn't turn.

The cold wind blew the warm scent of the scented soap she used across the short distance separating them, and he felt himself tense – he wasn't absolutely sure of what he was going to do, or say, next, which was more than bit new to him.

Draco felt her presence draw up beside him, on his right, and he shifted his gaze from the brilliance of the dying light, towards her.

"What were you and Potter doing?" 'Oh, that was _brilliant_', he thought sourly even as the words left his mouth. 'Make her jump on the defensive, why don't you?'

"We went flying – I thought you were there," was all she said, her voice sounding strained. "I invited you first, you remember."

Draco turned on her in an instant. "Why don't you tell me what you were 'really' doing up there?" he asked, eyes narrowing accusingly behind his hair.

Ginny's eyes turned cool. "You know what? You're right, we weren't flying up at the paddock – Harry spent the whole time shagging me rotten, in the snow, no less."

Draco snorted in disgust, and turned his back on her again, realizing how ridiculous it sounded.

"If you must know, we didn't _just_ fly. We did talk."

"'Talk'?" he asked, shooting her a glance over his shoulder.

"Yes, we _talked_."

He immediately became suspicious. "About what?"

"He wanted to give me something."

"_I bet_," Draco caught himself snarling beneath his breath – and then all malicious thoughts were forgotten as Ginny dangled something glinting and slivery over his shoulder.

"What's this?" He caught the object in his fingers, and drew it closer for a better look.

"Your Christmas present – sorry it's a bit late."

The last rays of sunlight bounced off the newly polished crystal in his hand, before leaving them in the bitterly cold, slowly descending darkness.

It took a moment for him to recognize it for what it was.

"Is _this_ - ?"

"Yes. Of course, I had to fix it up a bit, after it laid out on the Quidditch pitch for a few days – and then, I had to change the design a bit. After all, what self-respecting, bad-ass Slytherin would wear a teardrop-shaped crystal pendant on a bit of ribbon?"

Draco stared at the strip of braided black leather, and the now square-cut crystal. The tiny white dragon etching was still prevalent through the crystal, but the crystal itself was no longer white. It was perfectly clear, but was now the bluish-black of ink dropped into water.

"What did you do to it?" He tilted it this way and that, throat tight with an unwelcome emotion. He felt Ginny step closer, and then closed his eyes breifly at the touch of her small hand on his back.

"I had Mum cast a protection charm on it. And Bill gave me the leather, hope you don't mind. Anyway, the charm, it's pretty powerful, so it changed the color of the crystal – but I reckon it makes it look kind of cool, don't you think? Definitely more Draco."

He was quite for so long she spoke again, her voice more unsure. "I-I can put it on for you, if you want – but if you don't like it, you don't have to wear it, I'll understand."

Draco silently handed the necklace back over his shoulder to her, and used one hand to push the long fall of his hair upwards, off his neck, to give her access.

He heard her tug off her gloves, and then felt her small, warm hands guiding the leather around his throat – it took her a couple of long minutes, because her fingers were shaking nervously, but then she fixed the clasp securely, and dropped her hands.

Reaching up to finger the slick pendant, he turned to face her again, and she gave him a tentative smile. "See? I didn't 'lob' it, after all. Told you." Her red curls blew into her eyes, and she grabbed up a mass in one hand with a frustrated growl, anchoring it atop her head. "_This_ is what I have to put up with – being blinded by red-orange frizz just because _you_ like my hair down…"

The warmth surging into his chest, making it swell almost hurtfully, brought a hated panic with it, and doubt.

"Why didn't you just keep it, the pendant, I mean, and return my necklace to me?" he asked somewhat hoarsely, trying to distract himself from the insane urge grabbing hold of him.

"Oh. Would you rather yours back?" Draco watched her lift a hand to wrap her fingers around the silver snake. "I just…well, the truth is, I only wanted it…because you touched it – "

'_Merlin save me_,' he thought wildly as his heart began beating at a mad pace. 'Don't do it, Draco, _don't you fucking dare _do_ it_, don't say it – '

" – and I thought, since I'd been wearing that one for quite a bit, you might want it , though it is a lot different now – "

_"I…love you, Ginny."_

Her heart stopped.

Ginny stumbled over what she was saying, and stared up at Draco – not the Draco of the trademark smirks and nasty, sarcastic comebacks, but the Draco who told her she perfect toes, and was thoughtful enough to give her a warm coat for Christmas instead of some expensive, silly bauble she'd never have anywhere to wear –

"I never did thank you for my present," she babbled suddenly. "It's absolutely _gorgeous_, you must have been reading my mind about wanting a new coat – it's almost too posh for the likes of me, though – "

Draco, still looking stunned to the core by his husky admission, blinked at her, and then scowled. "Did you hear what I just said, woman? I _love_ you."

Ginny shut her mouth quickly, and found herself taking a hasty step away as he advanced on her.

"H-how do I know you're not just saying that?" she asked weakly, her heart shying away from the prospect of his deceit. She stumbled over a snow drift and teetered drunkenly before Draco's black gloved hand shot out to steady her. She righted herself, but Draco didn't let her go – he drew her closer, and ended crushing her against his chest with his arms locked around her.

"I am not 'just saying' it, Ginny," he whispered into her ear, making her shudder.

"Prove it," she said challengingly, pushing at his well-toned chest out of self-preservation.

Draco obligingly drew back, and he looked down at her with eyes resembling liquid mercury. A smirk played on his lips, but the breath he drew in was a shaky one.

"How do you propose I 'prove it', Weasley? What, you want to give me Veritaserum, now? I bet Potter would _love_ to there for that one – "

"Look in my eyes and say it." She told him simply.

"Sweet Merlin, I just said it _twice_ – "

"I think it's almost time for dinner – " Ginny began carelessly, turning away toward the house.

Draco caught her shoulders and pulled her back possessively. He used one hand to tilt her chin up, peered as coolly as he was able into her eyes, and said firmly, "I. Love. You."

One of her eyes twitched, and then she dropped her head against his chest and sobbed out loud.

"Oh, for – bloody hell, are you _crying_?" He sent a look heavenward, and then gave her back an awkward pat.

"I love you, too, Draco! Oh, I just can't believe you finally said it, and you mean it, I could see it in your eyes, and you're so beautiful, and I don't know what you – "

He managed to put up with this for a few moments longer before he grasped the hair at the back of her head and tugged until her tearstained face was turned up to him.

"Ginny, I have to tell you something."

She sniffed, and lifted her hands to lock at the base of his nape. "What?"

His eyes drifted over her sweet features before he shuddered them, and shook his head. "It's…nothing. I'll tell you…later."

Her head dodged him as he leaned in to kiss her. "No…I don't like the sound of this; tell me _now_."

"Jesus, Gin, just _let_ me kiss you – "

"If you love me, you'll tell me what's bothering you. I can tell something is…"

Draco dropped his hands, and stood back from her with a growl of frustration. "Fine. You want to know, you want to waste what little time we've got left, _fine_. I'll tell you. I have to leave here – in the morning."

"L-leave here? But why? School doesn't start for over another week – "

"I won't bore you with the details, Gin – suffice it to say, I'm afraid circumstances are forcing an early departure - Lucius isn't at all happy about finding out I'm residing at the burrow."

"Screw 'Lucius'! He _disowned_ you – " she began violently.

"Yes, well, it seems he wants me back, now…he probably had a hard time trying to convince mother to conceive again – never wanted to ruin her figure, you know," said Draco, trying not to sound too bitter.

"You're not going back, are you, Draco?"

"I have my reasons," he said speciously.

"_What_ reasons! Are you mad? Do you really want to – to return to _that_?"

"That was all I'd ever known before I met you, Ginny. 'That' suited me well enough, until you had to fall into my lap on that ruddy train – "

"Give it a rest! What kind of blackmail is he holding over your head, Draco? What is he doing to you?"

"It's none of your bloody concern!" Draco roared. "I mean, sweet Merlin, woman, I tell you I love you, and you immediately start in on me like we're a couple of old married's! And you wonder why I never wanted to say it to anyone before?"

"I-I'm sorry." Tears welled in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Draco, I just hate the idea of you going back to them, I'm worried you're going to change, your feelings, the way you see me – "

"Ginny…just let me hold you…I do have to leave in the morning, but you're acting like I've said I'll never see you again. Come on, you've said it yourself, school will be back in session soon. I can guarantee you, nothing will stop me from seeing you then." He ran his fingers along her jaw soothingly. His lips twisted into a sexy snarl as he dipped his head to taste her lips, and she evaded him yet again.

"You-you aren't going to murder your father, or something, are you?"

Draco gave a nasty laugh. "It _had_ occurred to me, but no, sadly I decided against it. No, I have more than a few things on my dear, sweet old man that would be enough to shut him up in Azkaban for eternity. I feel fairly confident I can make him see the error of trying to keep us apart."

"You're going to…blackmail him." Ginny stated, eyes widening in dread.

"Blackmail is such an ugly word – but yes, I suppose you could say that."

"Oh, god, he's going to kill you," she told him with a chilling finality.

"_Kill_ _me?_ Not bloody likely. It would be a bit more than conspicuous, really, me mysteriously dying when he only just 'disowned' me publicly weeks prior. No, he just wants me under his heel again, is all. Like a bloody cockroach wriggling about, begging for mercy – "

"How can you talk about this so coldly? What if he hurts you? No, you can't go, I _can't_ lose you – "

"I promise you, you'll soon run the risk of losing more than me if I _don't_ go." Draco looked down at her, and then his harshly set features softened slightly. "Don't think about it, Ginny." His hands began chaffing her upper arms. "You look cold…maybe we should head inside."

"I'm having a bloody freak out, Draco! If I go in there now, if I look at all like I feel, my brothers will probably call up the Wild Hunt on your ass!" Ginny exclaimed anxiously. She sighed heavily, and then wrapped her arms around his waist and boldly hooked her fingers through the belt straps on his jeans. "I love you, Draco," she told him in hopeless way that just _begged_ him to take advantage of her.

The warmth in his chest grew into a tingle that spread throughout his body, making his skin prickle in enjoyment. He pressed a hesitant kiss to the top of her head, and then gave up and rested his cheek against her crown of silky curls. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, and closed his eyes tiredly, the long black length of his open jacket enfolding her, protecting her against the bitter cold of the evening.

* * *

TBC

(**A/N:** Thanks again everyone! Sorry about the appalling lack of Bill and Charlie-ness. Soon, soon. Oh, and for those interested, I think Hermione and Ron finally get together next chappy…hee. Will it really be 'her' tongue she bites when Madame Trelawney's prediction of the monster blizzard comes true:shameless, I know: Keep an eye out for more updates soon! Ah, _Draco_…yummy enough to eat with a spoon…er, heh…:cough:)


	18. Chapter 18 Did You Hurt Yourself, Ron?

**The Dragon Rebels**

**_Author:_** Lee Velviet

_**Disclaimer:** _I own NOTHING!

**Chapter Eighteen -**"Did You Hurt Yourself, Ron?"

* * *

When the cold at last drove them back indoors, Ginny wasn't quite sure what to say to the moody looking Draco. 

"Have you, er - told anyone else you…that you have to go, yet?"

At the hesitant, miserably voiced question, Draco paused in hanging his coat next to Ginny's, and she sighed inwardly as she saw him fix a small, stiff smile on his lips as he turned to face her.

"No, actually. Do you think I should?"

The frank sounding query took her aback. Ginny paused in fluffing snow out of her damp red hair, which was unfortunately beginning to frizz slightly, and stared at him.

"You're asking _me_? You? _You_ want to know what _I _think?"

"Why not?" The brilliance of his cool eyes and the unexpected appearance of his rare, quietly teasing grin nearly killed her on the spot. "After all, you know how much I _value_ your opinion, Gin."

Trying her best to breathe normally, Ginny arched a brow at him.

How was she going survive living away from this boy for two entire _weeks_?

"You'll quit looking at me that way, if you know what's good for you." Draco shifted restlessly, then, crossing his arms and ankles as he moved to lean against the wall.

Ginny frowned, feeling unfairly distracted by his 'come-hither' pose. "What way would that be?"

"Like - like you'd let me do anything I want, if I suddenly announced I was going to stay," he said heavily, and then his gaze dropped down to the scarred wooden floor. "Y'know I can't, Weasley."

"I know you _won't_," Ginny said petulantly.

Draco's eyes swept back up. "I'll leave before breakfast," was all he said.

"Draco, stop it," Ginny said, exasperated. "Of course you should! How do you think everyone would feel, you just popping off without even saying a word of goodbye – "

"_Goodbye?_ Oy, you leavin', Malfoy?"

One corner of Draco's lips curved ruefully upwards as one of the twins bellowed from the stair landing overhead. "You were saying - ?" he prompted snarkily.

Ginny rolled her eyes at the ceiling. It wasn't a moment later that she heard an identical voice add, "What? He's _leaving? _Oh, well, so _not-_sorry to see you go, hope you _haven't _had a nice visit – "

" – and please, _don't_ feel welcome to come back any time!"

"Maybe we should give him a nice parting gift – "

"Fred, don't even think about it – _hey!_" Ginny leaned around the corner and shouted after them as the twins barreled down the staircase like a pair of naughty toddlers, "Get my jumper off Crookshanks this _instant!_"

"Later – afraid we're in the middle of something at the moment!"

"Yeah, we want to get our Percy-peeving well out of the way before dinner – relax, it'll only take a second!"

Ginny shook her head, and looked after the twins bounding away as if they were they trying younger siblings, and she the disapproving elder.

"Rather disturbing, isn't it, having to worry about your male siblings nipping off with your clothing?" Draco observed with perfect seriousness.

Ginny laughed despite herself. "I'd better go and see what they're up to, lest Percy is tempted to murder the two of them in their beds tonight," she told Draco regretfully.

His brows knit together as he looked down at her."Percy?" he asked, unconvinced.

"Mum says it's always the quiet ones," Ginny shook her head sorrowfully, and then gave a quiet giggle. "'A man can only be pushed so far'," the little redhead told him mock-seriously, deepening her voice, and drawing herself up to kiss the tip of his nose. "It's what Ron says, anyway." She kissed his cheek, and then made as if to turn.

"Well, he's right about that, at least," Draco murmured, grabbing her around the waist before she got too far, and making her kiss him properly this time; right there in plain view. Ginny didn't struggle, to his immense satisfaction, but she finally did plant a finger on the center of his chin and tug her lips away.

"I'll be back in a minute – and then we'll talk." One obscenely long-lashed brown eye winked at him, and then she was off, hurrying down the hall, and up the crooked flight of stairs, moving with a single-minded determination that showed in every step.

Draco felt his nose tingling, and absently reached up to rub it as he stared at her shapely legs disappearing swiftly upwards.

The girl should have been arrested for thievery. He'd been caught, emotionally kidnapped, and by a _Weasley_ no less…but he knew he didn't mind very much at all, anymore.

No, no matter how hard he'd strived to keep his tone cool with her, outside, the mere idea of leaving her was so abhorrent now, that it was making him feel downright ill.

Draco pulled his gloves off, slowly, and tucked them into the deep pockets of his coat, lost in his thoughts. He'd be leaving so soon.

He looked up at the clock on the wall. Twelve hours. It sounded like a long time, but in reality it was _nothing_…his thoughts trailed off as his hand brushed something else buried deep inside his pocket. His fingers touched something hard, and then closed around the object. Pulling it out, he frowned – and then froze.

It was the ring – the one that had belonged to his great-grandmother. The one that had been her _wedding_ ring.

He recalled then, that he'd absently transferred the box from the pocket of the shorter, black leather jacket he'd been wearing in Gringott's when he'd taken it from the vault, automatically shifting the contents to his new coat when he'd first worn it. He honestly hadn't given the box a second thought.

Draco stared at it in his hand, finally understanding why he'd felt so subconsciously compelled to pick up the stupid thing in the first place.

He resolutely stuck his fingers in the back pockets of his jeans, and took a rough, very deep breath. "If you want _any_ of your remaining time with Ginny to remain at the very least _somewhat_ uninterrupted, you're going to have to go about things the 'proper' way," he told himself regretfully in the hall mirror, and saw his pale likeness in the mirror give a very distinct, very reluctant wince.

For a minute Draco couldn't believe what he was contemplating. It was mad, utterly ridiculous! He was having some kind of mental breakdown from spending so much time around Potter and the Weasley's. No, it just wasn't the sort of thing he'd ever find himself thinking about doing – _ever_. It was disgracefully romantic, and terribly old-fashioned, but…he was going to have to declare himself to Ginny's father. Suddenly…suddenly, even a lifetime wasn't anywhere near long-enough to spend with Ginny.

"If you're planning on doing something with that ring in your hand, you'd at least best make yourself presentable!" The mirror squawked rudely, out of the blue. "Tuck your shirt in, scruffy – and do something about that mop on your head!"

Lifting a brow and then scowling, Draco walked past the mirror, stifling the urge to make it crack, and continued down the hall, toward Arthur Weasley's study.

* * *

"You _can't_ be serious!" Arthur Weasley huffed over his cluttered, scarred wooden desk. 

Draco tightened his jaw – and flicked the catch on the ring box open with his thumb.

At the sight of the priceless gems winking at him from the setting, Mr. Weasley lowered himself into his chair very slowly, his blue eyes wide beneath his thinning, floppy red hair. "I, uh…I see that you are," he said finally, his voice very faint.

"Yes, very." Impatient, Draco snapped the lid on the ring box closed, and shoved it into his jeans.

"You do understand, Malfoy, that however honorable your intentions seem to be, Ginny is far too young and impressionable for you to be – "

"I'm not proposing to her, _now_, sir." Draco said flatly. "I'm in love, not stupid."

"Yes, well…"

"I'm only asking your permission to court her properly, as is tradition among _most_ Wizarding families."

"Malfoy - Draco…I'm assuming that you understand, that asking to court her is – "

"Is as good as asking her to marry me, I know. I also know that Ginny is very innocent and very young, and without making my good intentions toward her known, I can't get within five feet of her without Potter or one of your sons mistaking my merest gesture. I'm very much in danger of losing various parts of my anatomy that are, I'm sure you understand, terribly precious to me."

Mr. Weasley coughed, and shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps I should think on this for a bit – "

"I have to leave, sir. In the morning."

The older man looked at him sharply. "Leave? And go where?"

Draco skillfully evaded his watchful gaze. "There are some…things that need taken care of. At home."

"Ah! So that's what that letter you received this morning was all about! Molly told me something had upset you! I knew Lucius couldn't leave things alone; he'd never disown his only heir, no matter what he'd done – "

"Then you understand why I need to go."

"No, actually, I don't. I really don't think you should go back there, Draco. I know he's your father, but Lucius is severely unhinged, always has been – "

"You're talking to the person who's lived seventeen years under his roof. Of course I know he's mad, but don't you see? That's exactly why I need to go straighten things out. I'm not giving Ginny up, and that infuriates him. I won't have her in any danger."

"He'll never let you be with her, Draco."

"I know."

"Landing yourself in Azkaban for murdering him won't help you any either."

"I don't plan on murdering him – what is it with you people around here?" Draco made a disgusted face. "Seem to think I'm particularly bloodthirsty for some reason, don't you? No, if anyone is going to Azkaban, it's going to be my father."

Arthur Weasley's expression grew very grim. He sat back in his creaking chair and cleared his throat. "You have my attention, Malfoy."

Draco leaned forward and smiled – a cold, evil, mercenary smile. "You wouldn't be able to have a raid permit handy by tomorrow night, would you?"

* * *

Draco left Arthur's study when it was dinner time with an unconcerned yawn. His devious little plan would work, he was certain. After all, he'd been raised and trained by the best. His father had always taught him that when it comes to who wields the most power, money and connections always win out. As young as he was, he still managed to have both. 

He caught up with Ginny at the entrance to the dining room and smiled at her as she tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. She blushed at the attention, and her eyes twinkled at him as they walked in to the meal together.

After dinner, Draco talked Ginny into a game of cards. They sat cross-legged on opposite ends of her bed, her door wide open, and faced each other over their cards with blank, straight faces until Ginny finally broke down and started laughing. In the midst of her laughter, she ended up dropping most of her hand, and they had to begin all over again.

As Ginny leaned down to pick up the fallen cards, Draco got a more than decent look down the front of her shirt, and was grateful for the pillow he'd settled across his knees to lean his elbows on.

After more than an hour of playing, with Draco losing more often than not, and Ginny's not-so wild accusation's that he was cheating when he did win, Draco watched Ginny's brown eyes go soft and sleepy. He reached across the bed and tugged her cards from her unresisting hands, and tossed them onto the floor. She looked up at him questioningly from beneath heavy lids, and then sighed gratefully when he slowly leaned forward on his hands and settled his lips gently against hers…

Arthur Weasley received an odd jolt at the sight that greeted him as he looked in on his daughter to say goodnight late that evening.

Ginny and Draco Malfoy were asleep, curled around each other on her bed.

Beside him, Molly gasped, and made as if to hurry forward and wake them, but Arthur caught her gently by the arm.

"Arthur! What on earth on are you – "

"Leave them, Molly."

"Why – "

"The boy is leaving in the morning, dearest," he told her quietly. "He's going _home_."

Molly's fierce expression faded. "Oh but he can't go back to those horrid people, Arthur. He's been such a sweet boy – "

Arthur didn't know if he would use _that_ particular word to describe the boy! "He has his reasons, Molly. He's trying to make things safe for them to be together. I can't have gotten any better honesty from Harry himself. I talked to him earlier – he's in love with our Ginny, would you believe it?" He shook his head as he looked in on the sleeping pair again. "A Malfoy and a Weasley."

"Well, of course he's in love with our Ginny! And she's in love with him! A person would have to be blind not to see it."

"Then let's leave them alone, shall we, dearest? The door is wide open, and the boys will no doubt be sure to keep an eye on them – let them sleep, and have their peace together while they may."

"Oh, all right, Arthur. They do make a lovely little pair, don't they?"

Arthur gave his daughter's glowing face a last, proud look before he put his arm around his lovely wife and hugged her to his side, leaning in to kiss her pretty little ear. "That they do, dearest. That they do."

* * *

Ginny reluctantly opened her eyes to greet the morning on the day after Christmas, and realized she was quite alone. 

It was a wonder she'd gotten any sleep at all – she'd stayed up late with Draco the night before, after he'd kissed her, trying her best to convince him it was not a wise idea at all to leave.

Ginny had at last gone to sleep in his arms, feeling awful, and she'd tossed and turned all night long until Draco had finally forced her to remain still, and had begun rubbing her head until she'd become drowsy and relaxed.

She sat straight up in her bed as a sudden thought occurred to her.

Draco wouldn't have left without saying goodbye, would he, thinking maybe it would make things easier for her? Oh, she'd just die if he had…

Catching sight of the darkness outside, she allowed herself a moment to relax. It was still very early, he wouldn't have left at such an hour.

Nonetheless, Ginny immediately got up and dressed hurriedly, in a soft peach jumper over a white tee, and a pair of denims washed blue-gray with wear.

She tugged a brush through her curls, pinched her pale cheeks and bit her lips to give them some natural color, and let herself out of her room as quietly as possible, so as not to disturb what looked to be a slightly lumpy, but soundly sleeping Hermione in the bed next to hers.

Ginny headed downstairs, cautiously stepping over the creaking steps, her feet making little noise in their plain white socks.

She entered the kitchen, thinking to light a fire in the large hearth, and maybe start breakfast, but she wasn't the first one there, apparently, for flames already crackled loudly, and the room was as warm as could be.

Hot tears scalded her throat as she noticed Draco seated at the long kitchen table, fully clothed, his booted feet crossed at the ankle, and resting on his dark green traveling trunk which sat ready on the floor in front of him. He already wore his long black cloak, and sat staring broodingly out of the windows at the billowing clouds of snow falling from the bleak, dark sky.

For all his comfortable pose, and ragged jeans, he didn't look like he belonged there, in the cozy, tattered kitchen – and it scared her. It made her recall, once again, just how different they really were.

Ginny drew in a tremulous breath, and leaned on the doorjamb for support.

She stared blindly at the fancy gothic lettering done in gilt silver paint on his trunk, his initials, D.M. She stared until her gaze blurred, and then she swiped at her eyes impatiently, and walked noisily into the kitchen, pasting a cheerful smile on her face.

"Good morning!" she said a little too brightly, as she made straight for a cupboard.

Draco didn't say anything, and when she turned her head slightly to look over her shoulder, she got the shock of her life to see him standing directly behind her.

She gasped, nearly dropping the mug she held, and Draco gently tugged it from her hand, setting it firmly on the unfinished wooden counter, and pulled her around to face him.

Ginny automatically dropped her eyes, unable to look at him. A warm breath fluttered her bangs, and she heard him sigh. The sound made her ache inside.

"You know I have to go." This was said more softly than she'd ever heard him speak.

"No, I don't know," she whispered stubbornly, raising her hands to curl her fingers into the front of his robes.

"I'll see you back at school on the third, Ginny."

She felt the warmth of his skin radiating outward as he dropped his cheek to hover beside her downcast head.

"You have no idea how badly I want to believe you. But it's too easy," she told him in a choked voice, raising one hand from his chest to finger the long, silky strands of white-blonde hair falling alongside her face. "It's too easy for you to just say, '_I'll see you_', Draco." Ginny closed her eyes, struggling with an almost overwhelming sense of presentiment.

Draco took a deep breath. "Well, alright, then. I…I promise I'll see you back at school." He reached up to grasp the hand touching the ends of his hair, and seemed to almost hesitantly bring the back of it against his smooth, hard cheekbone; as if he still wasn't entirely sure she wouldn't pull away.

"I thought you didn't _make_ promises, Malfoy."

"I don't. This is the one and _only_ exception to the rule, just for you," drawled Draco arrogantly.

Ginny wrapped her fingers around a long skein of his hair and yanked lightly. "Draco, if you are playing with me, I swear, I'll hunt you down and set the most painful hex I know on you." Her voice was slightly choked.

He untangled her fingers and curled his own around them with a faint smile of amusement. "Don't you know by now when I'm 'playing' with you, or not? Suck it up, Weasley. Look at me."

Ginny lifted her eyes to his and could only stare at him helplessly.

"Don't go, Draco. Please?"

The small smile faded. "I wish I could have left you alone. I don't want to be responsible for putting you in danger."

Ginny knew then that he was determined to leave. She sighed heavily. "Draco, no matter what happens, I'm glad that you didn't."

"I'll always remember that you loved me when I was just 'Malfoy'."

Straightening her shoulders determinedly, Ginny reached up and ran a finger over his cheekbone. "I could always come along to the Manor with you, you know. Smooth things over, perhaps? Smile and giggle inanely, and call your dad a cheeky sod when he tried to insult me." She grinned.

Draco reached out and took her hand in his, squeezing it tightly. "Kiss me, Ginny," he urged, stepping close.

Ginny balked, though. "I can't."

He lifted a brow. "Why? Did all that exposure to Potter and your brother make me lose my good looks? Am I a beast, now?"

Ginny rolled her eyes at him. "Of course not…I'm just…embarrassed, is all."

"_Embarrassed_?" He snorted softly. "What is it with this sudden meekness of yours, Ginny? Hm?"

"What if…what if you go off, and something happens? What if you change your mind, and don't want me anymore when we meet again?"

"Not _want_ you? It'll never happen."

"You don't know that…besides, what if I'm…"

"What if you're ' what'?"

"A disappointment."

"Listen, if this is because you're a Weasley – "

"It hasn't anything to do with that, Draco. What I meant was…well, I'm just not as experienced as the-the other girls you're used to. I know you've been with a lot of – "

Draco laughed at her. "Don't tell me you _believed_ all that rubbish."

"H-huh?"

_"Ginny."_ Draco grasped her by the shoulders, and looked at her seriously, his eyes twinkling as though he couldn't help the satisfied smirk playing on his lips. "If I had _really_ been with that many women already, I seriously doubt I'd be able to walk, much less be possessed of the kind of strength I'd need to sit a broom."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I'm not as 'experienced' as everyone thinks I am. Don't get me wrong, I do know a lot…"

But Harry – he said – you said – "

He shrugged, looking unconcerned. "I was lying."

"How do I know you aren't lying right now?"

"You don't."

"You're lying," Ginny said flatly, turning away.

Draco eyed her, disbelieving. He watched her with a startled wariness. "What makes you think I'm lying? How can you tell?" he demanded, catching her wrist and pulling her back around to face him.

"Draco…you have a dimple." She looked at him as if he were the most hopeless being on the planet.

Offended, Draco reached up to touch his cheek. "What!"

"You have a dimple," she repeated with a sigh. "I can tell you're lying just from the way you smile at me."

He glared at her, his lips pouting sullenly. His hand dropped from his cheek.

"When you're being honest, when you smile at me, this little dimple appears, just here. Even if you're just smirking," Ginny went on, biting back a laugh.

Still staring at her, as if afraid of how much she'd come to know him, he backed away.

"When you're lying, Draco, I don't see your dimple. I don't see it when you're faking a smile. Which means I haven't seen very much of that dimple at all.

"Don't you see? I love you. I know so many little things about you, Draco. Just like you know so many little things about me." Ginny gave him a sad little smile.

Draco didn't stop until he'd backed into the wall. He just stood there, watching her for the longest time. It actually made her want to squirm in discomfort. She let her eyes flicker away from his unrelenting stare, and then back, as he murmured something she couldn't quite hear.

"What?"

He didn't answer at first. He looked as if he was having difficulty making his voice work.

"It…scares me, sometimes, how much you make me feel." He said haltingly. He looked at her with a hint of challenge.

Ginny nodded. "I know." She wanted to tease him about being scared of a little thing like her, but she knew she didn't dare. It was going to take a lot of time and patience for Draco to open up to her, and even then he may never do it entirely. All she could do was make sure he knew she was there for him, and prove it repeatedly.

She sighed, and slowly started to approach him, afraid he'd back away, but he didn't move an eyelash. He did watch her warily until she reached out her arms and slid them around his waist. She held him for a minute before he relaxed and rested his forehead hesitantly against hers, putting his hands on her shoulders.

"I've got to go," he finally said, jerking his head towards the fireplace. "I've heard sometimes that if the weather gets bad enough, it somehow interferes with the Floo network."

"Do you really think it will get that bad?" Ginny frowned.

Draco shrugged. "Looks like Trelawney actually predicted something right for once."

Almost as if on cue, a muffled yelp came from the pantry. Ginny jumped, and Crookshanks, who'd been sneaking stealthily into the kitchen, spat at the closed door.

A raucous noise came from behind the door, as if someone had stumbled into the brooms and mops, and knocked over the water pails stored within. Finally, knowing their cover had been blown, the door creaked open, and out stumbled a red-faced Hermione, and a scarlet-cheeked Ron, who was kicking a bucket off one foot, and holding a hand over his mouth.

Ginny stared, wide-eyed at the spectacle. Hadn't Hermione just been upstairs in the bed? How - ?

"Hermione! Did you really stuff your blankets with pillows? Just to meet Ron? How shocking!" Ginny couldn't help teasing. She felt Draco straighten up against the wall. She tore her eyes away to see a diabolical grin cross his face, one much akin to the one he'd worn on countless instances at Hogwart's when he was about to humiliate someone entirely. She couldn't be angry with him – it was just too much in his nature to expect any less.

She nonetheless cut him off before the damage could be done. "Ron, what happened to your mouth?" she asked quickly, her eyes concerned as she watched the tears slowly drain from her brother's eyes.

"Nuffin'," Ron mumbled, cutting his eyes at Hermione as he kicked the pail back into the closet.

Hermione cleared her throat loudly. "Nonsense, Ron, it's not as if they can't tell what we were doing in there, anyway," she said baldly, though her face was still pink. She even winked at Ginny before she took Ron's hand and announced that they were 'together'.

Ginny could almost hear Draco rolling his eyes.

"Finally," the blonde drawled, the word dripping with criticism.

Ron narrowed his eyes, but only sucked absently on his tongue.

"Did you hurt yourself, Ron?" Ginny asked teasingly.

"I…er…that is, I'm afraid I accidentally…bit his tongue," Hermione said, flushing a brighter shade of pink.

Ron looked mortified. "'Mione!" he yelped, but it came out as more of a, "Mm-knee!"

"What? It wasn't my fault," the girl said matter-of-factly. "As per usual, it was Malfoy's fault."

"My fault!" Draco sneered. "How could it be my fault? I wasn't the one stuck in a pantry with him in the early morning hours, and I certainly wasn't the one kissing him – sweet Merlin, now I have to go wash my mouth out with scouring soap! I'd gouge out my eyes too, but I'm afraid the image is burned into my brain anyway." He made an awful face, and Ginny reached out and pinched him.

"Malfoy, please refrain from making us all _permanently_ ill," Hermione responded coolly. "It's your fault because you inadvertently called me on something. Remember when I said I'd bite my tongue if Madame Trelawney ever did predict something right? Well, when you said she had, I guess some it triggered some sort of magical karma."

"And you were kissing Ron," Ginny said with understanding, giggling, and beside her, Draco started roaring with mean-spirited laughter. She pinched him again, and he glowered at her.

"What's going on?"

Startled, Ginny turned her eyes toward the doorway, and saw a sleep rumpled Harry standing there, one hand buried in his messy hair, the other on the doorjamb.

"Malfoy was just leaving," Ron said pointedly, finally able to speak without mumbling.

Harry took a step inside the kitchen, his sleepy eyes taking on a more coherent gleam. "Is that so?"

The smile lingering on Ginny's face at Ron and Hermione's mishap fell at the reminder. "He has to go home for a while," she told him a little distantly.

"Well…I'll be more than happy to keep you company until he comes back, then," he said softly, his eyes hardening as they met Draco's.

Ginny wanted to groan.

"I'm not coming back, Potter," Draco gritted out. "I'll…be occupied with…things until school is open again."

"What a pity," Harry said with dislike.

"You'd better get going, then, before you can't," Ginny said swiftly, hoping to end the fight she sensed coming on before it even had a chance to begin. She turned towards Draco to kiss his cheek, but he turned his head and gave her a long, thorough kiss on the mouth before putting her away from him. She was too stunned to be embarrassed.  
"Just remember, Ginny, you're mine now." Draco met Harry's narrowed eyes over her shoulder.

"And you're mine," Ginny told him boldly, before stretching up to give him another hard, brief kiss. She turned her back then, swiping at a threatening tear before going to her room to do her hurting in peace. She couldn't stand watching him leave.

* * *

TBC! 

**A/N:** Has it really been over a year :cough: I'm _really_ grateful to every one of you for letting me know your thoughts and opinions on the fic – especially since the great onset of writer's block - and not letting me let it die. Two chapters left!

Thanks for reading!

- Lee


	19. Chapter 19 Redemption? Whatever

**The Dragon Rebels**

-

**Author:** Lee Velviet

-

**Chapter Nineteen** - Redemption? Whatever.

-

Ginny couldn't believe her eyes.

"D-Draco?"

Draco stood before her, clad in long, sweeping green and black robes, held closed by a simple silver snake clasp. His silvery-gray eyes were cold and empty as he looked at her down his nose, seemingly in disgust.

Ginny knew she was gaping at him, but...

He was nearly unrecognizable - at least, as the boy she'd come to know over the past half-year.

He was Malfoy again. _Just_ Malfoy. Malfoy of the nasty remarks, and the insulting, sneering glances, and dirty, underhanded tricks.

His hair had been clipped even, the long, spiky growth that had begun to spill over his shoulders a thing of the past, and it was brushed back severely against his head, making him look even colder. The ragged clothes and scuffed boots were noticeably absent.

He looked like a younger version of his father.

Ginny had been darting through a narrow, curving stair passageway when she rounded the gradual bend - and found her exit blocked by a dark figure, who seemed to take up the entire arched doorway.

Ginny nearly dropped her books, and put her hand to her throat, choking on a gasp as the figure raised its head.

A pair of strangely bright, liquid silver eyes caught at what little light was in the passage as they slowly turned up to meet hers.

"Why so surprised, Weasley? I told you, didn't I? I told you nothing would keep me from seeing you." He smirked.

Ginny's heart dropped.

_'Draco'._

She took a stumbling step backwards, suddenly very aware of where she was - caught in a closed in, rarely used passage in the dungeons of Hogwart's with a boy who'd claimed to love her, and then suddenly turned on her in the worst way.

He took a step toward her, his face going totally into shadow. She couldn't see his expression, now, but the disturbing light in his eyes was enough to tell her she was in danger.

With a shudder, she dropped her books, and took off running. She probably would have gotten away well enough if she hadn't panicked and taken a wrong turn. She came up against a dead-end wall.

Realizing her mistake, she whirled around to retrace her steps - and found Draco's shadowy, robe-draped figure standing not ten steps away.

"What is this?" he drawled with cold amusement. "Afraid of me 'again', Ginny?"

His mocking way of saying her name hurt. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" she said breathlessly. "Well, I'm not! I'm not afraid of you, Draco!"

He started toward her, his steps very slow - Ginny's back hit the wall at the of the corridor, and despite her words to contrary, she jumped, the skin all over her body pricking with a sense of danger.

Draco continued his slow stalking of her. Keeping her eyes on him, she felt along the wall behind her, and started hugging the the wall as she moved to the right, hoping that the hall would prove wide enough for her to dash past him.

"What did your father do to you?" she asked helplessly.

He was against her then, suddenly, and had her pinned against the wall with his lean body. She was dizzy from it - she hadn't even seen him move...

Draco bent his head low over hers. "I promised you I'd see you back at school, didn't I?" he asked in a frightening monotone. "I promised."

Ginny's whole being became chilled. Something was wrong here, very, very wrong...she shook her head. "Stop saying that!"

"I promised," he repeated, his voice sounding dull and controlled.

_Imperious? _Her throat went tight. "Oh, no...no...please, Draco, I love you!"

Something shifted in the cold, glowing eyes above her.

"Ginny...love you...but...but I promised." He lifted a hand, and pointed his wand at her face.

"I..._promised_..."

Ginny clenched her eyes shut and struggled against his hold, but it was no use. He'd kept his promise to her, by seeing her again, but she knew it was a promise to another he was being made to uphold...by killing her.

A fierce green light suddenly exploded all around her, and she screamed.

"Draco, NO!"

-

"Ginny! Ginny? Wake up!"

"_No!"_

Ginny sat up with a gasp, but her fear didn't leave her.

It had been a bad dream, a nightmare...but what if it came true? What if Draco was in horrible danger right now?

"No," she sniffled, burying her head in her hands. Her hair fell in unruly waves all around her, and she knew it was going to be almost impossible to untangle, but she didn't care.

"Ginny?" a husky voice asked softly.

Looking up, she saw Harry lightly shaking her by the shoulders.

"Ginny, are you okay?"

The look of concern in his bright green eyes made her break out into sobs. She threw herself against his chest and buried her face in his warm throat.

"I miss him so much already," she choked out, not noticing the way Harry suddenly went stiff, or the way he swallowed hard against the pressure of her forehead.

"I'm so afraid for him. I'm afraid of what his father will do to him - or _make_ him do."

Harry was silent as he slowly lifted his arms and wrapped them around her.

Ginny sighed at their warmth, relaxing slightly in the comfort they offered. After a minute, she pulled back, wiping her eyes on her jumper sleeve.

She'd come upstairs when Draco had left, and she'd cried herself to sleep. It was no wonder she'd given herself a scare with that dream. She was so worried about him...

"I'm so scared he won't come back," she told Harry finally. She gave the oddly flushed-looking boy a sheepish grimace. "Sorry I bothered you." She plucked at the damp neckline of his gray tee. "I've gotten you all wet."

Harry blinked, and swallowed again, licking his lips. "I-I don't mind," he said softly, and then quickly stood up, turning away from her.

Still muzzy-headed from deep sleep, Ginny frowned. Why was Harry acting so funny?

"He'll come back," Harry said suddenly. He turned around, his eyes warm and steady on hers. "_I_ would. He'd be a complete idiot not to."

Ginny felt her lips tremble. She wasn't completely blind.

"Thanks, Harry."

Harry gave a slight nod, his cheeks turning an even deeper shade of red as he suddenly looked towards the open bedroom door.

Ron and Hermione were standing there, staring.

"You were hugging my sister," Ron blurted.

"She, er...she had a nightmare," Harry gestured clumsily.

"In the daytime," Hermione added, nodding her head in amused understanding.

"You were...you were _hugging_...my sister," Ron repeated faintly, a betrayed look on his face.

"Oh, get over it, Ron," Hermione sighed and grabbed his hand, leading him back out the door.

Looking embarrassed beyond belief, Harry moved towards the door as well.

"I should probably be going, too."

"Wait! Harry!" Ginny stood up from her bed, one hand out-stretched to stop him.

Harry looked at her hesitantly.

Ginny pushed her tangled hair out of her face, swiping at her tears, and let her hand fall as she realized she probably looked hysterical. She smiled at him.

"Thank you, Harry. Really. You saved me..._again_."

Harry's gentle green eyes crinkled at the corners as he slowly returned the smile. It was a heart-warming sight.

"Don't you know by now? I'll always save you, Ginny."

-

"And just where are you sneaking off to this evening, Arthur?"

Ginny frowned as she looked up from pushing her dinner around on her plate. Things had been a bit subdued around the house that day, what with even the twins feeling something bad coming on, so hearing her mum ask her dad about leaving had her ears perking.

Leaving the others chattering - or in Hermione's and Ron's case, arguing - amongst themselves, she went to see what was up in the kitchen.

"Work? Have you forgotten there's a record snowstorm?" her mum was asking expectantly of her bundled up father, who had almost made it away, dear man. "Working at the holidays, really..."

"The world doesn't stop for Christmas, love, you know that," her dad said placatingly, trying to smooth his departure.

"You didn't say anything about working tonight, Arthur, and I want to know exactly what it is you're up to," her mum said stubbornly - but Ginny caught the glint of worry in her warm gaze.

"It's something to do with Draco and his father, isn't it?" Ginny suddenly piped up from the doorway, feeling her heart begin a mad race in alarm again.

From the way her father suddenly started, and turned straight around to look at her, Ginny knew she was right.

"He's in danger, isn't he?" she asked, feeling her throat clench tight, and her skin prickle in panic. "I knew it. I _knew_ it, I told him not to go back there - "

"Draco will be - " Arthur stopped, swallowing, seemingly unable or unwilling to lie to his only daughter. He sighed, and rubbed his receding hairline. "I'm - _we're _- doing everything we can to keep him safe, Ginny."

"'Safe?'"Ginny asked wildly, "Safe! He is up to something, isn't he? He's - "

"He's helping the ministry take down one of You-Know-Who's staunchest supporters, and making it semi-possible for the both of you to be together without threat of reprisal - for now, anyway," her father whispered fiercely, his eyes more than a bit troubled. "Who knows what will happen in the future, but he loves you enough to take that risk."

"Oh, sweet Merlin," Ginny breathed, hardly able to believe she hadn't thought of the danger to Draco from that monster before now. "You-Know-Who...he'll consider Draco the worst-kind of blood-traitor! With his father supporting _him_, Draco will be practically right under Harry on his hate-list!"

Arthur grabbed his pale daughter by the arms and gave her a gentle shake. "Ginny, darling, if our plans work out as we hoped, the only thing You-Know-Who and his remaining supporters will think is that Draco has somehow been confunded, enchanted! It will not be common knowledge that he betrayed his father to the ministry, you understand? Lucius's memory will be altered, he won't even remember Draco being at the manor at all, you see?" He smiled at Ginny, silently urging her to have hope. "The house-elves there have already agreed to silence, thanks to Dobby, and Draco's mother Narcissa will have already gone by the time he arrived. We are fairly certain that Lucius waited until she was gone to summon Draco, so odds are she has no idea Draco will even have been there."

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Ginny summoned a small, tight smile in return. "Well, then...I guess his chances for being targeted later will at least be halved."

"Gee, Ginny, way to be ecstatic that your boy-toy will probably live," Fred said from behind them, he and almost all of the others having stole up behind them to listen to this newest drama.

"Yeah," agreed George, "but then I wouldn't be too excited about having Malfoy back, either!"

While Ginny shot the twins a withering look, Harry stepped forward, looking anxious.

"Maybe we should go along with you," he said to her father.

"Definitely," added Ron and Hermione.

"Well, you can't leave us out," Bill announced from behind them. "Sure there's curses probably need breaking, place like that."

"And Lucius Malfoy's face," Charlie spoke up, one large hand pounding into the other for emphaisis.

Only Percy's voice was noticeably absent.

Her father wasn't having any of it, though, apparently. He was shaking his head, refusal written all over his care-worn face.

"It's all been planned, now, we can't make any changes. I appreciate you all wanting to help -" he said over the protests, holding up a quieting hand, "but it's been well taken care of. I don't want to hear any more about it - especially from you three," he demanded, staring down a thoughtful-looking Harry, Hermione, and Ron.

Ginny felt strange, standing there, unable to do anything. It was akin to the sensation she'd had years back when Tom Riddle's diary had possessed her. Angry, helpless - yet somehow removed.

Her father jammed his hat onto his head, consented to his wife when she fussed over the folds of his scarf wrapped high around his neck, her eyes suspiciously bright, and then opened the door to let in the swirling snow and biting cold as he prepared to walk outside to his disapparating point.

"We should be arriving back quite soon," Arthur said, kicking a drift of snow away from the doorway. "Please believe me when I tell you Draco will be with me," he added, looking at Ginny with determination.

Ginny straightened herself from a defeated slump she hadn't even known she'd sunk into, and forced a smile of encouragement for her dad.

"See you soon, Weasley's," Arthur called, his voice muffled by his drawn-up scarf, and he stepped outside into the snowstorm, leaning against the door to force it closed over the huge amount of snow on the ground.

It was silent inside for a long minute, and then, one-by-one, she, and her family and friends shuffled off, solemnly preparing to wait.

-

Draco was continually disgusted by the amount of dust in his old room as he waited throughout the day and well into the evening for his father to condescend to see him. He'd arrived early that morning, covered in ash and floo powder from the Weasley's fireplace, only to find out from a wheezing house-elf that the master was out, and he was to be confined to his rooms until his father returned to 'deal' with him.

With little choice, Draco had followed the obviously abused elf to his suite on the second floor, and had remained there, albeit in a fury after he realized he'd been magically sealed in, and was unable to summon the elf to demand his neglected rooms be cleaned, or even a fire, or food.

He'd tried, for awhile, to let himself out, but the notorious house-elf magic was impossible for him to surpass. He'd given up then, using his wand to start a roaring fire in the large fireplace. He'd gone to the bath for a shower and change of clothes, before coming back out into the sitting room from the bedroom and finding a simple but filling meal laid out on a table in front of the chair nearest the fireplace.

Draco had known his father probably wasn't out to kill him, but even so, he'd been cautious in tasting the food. He wouldn't put it past him to have a potion of some kind slipped into his meal, to make him more docile, but there wasn't.

After eating his fill, he'd found himself stalking about his bedroom, thinking about Ginny - and he'd realized it physically hurt being away from her. His chest was aching again, his hands constantly recalling the feel of her hair between his fingers.

To distance himself, to clear his mind, Draco had dragged his old trunk from beneath his huge bed, and begun digging through its contents, making a messy pile of old school papers and 'love' letters from previous girlfriends to be rubbished. A few other trophies from the last couple of years also made their way into the junk pile, and he'd wondered at his insecure need to keep such trifling things. He'd also realized a certain innocent, laughing, red-headed girl was the reason he was now letting go of them.

After digging for a couple of hours, Draco had tossed the trash into the fireplace, feeling a little better about himself. He was watching the last remaining sparks curling into smoke when the door to his room was suddenly thrown open without warning.

Startled, but knowing better than to show it, he forced himself to stand slowly, reminding himself he had his wand tucked safely within his reach.

A shadowed house-elf shuffled hesitantly into the room, long, bony hands nervously twisting into each other.

Draco relaxed, then called himself a fool for having expected his father to come through the door. His father never bothered to fetch him himself.

"What is it?" He didn't call it by name, as he realized he had never gone to the trouble of learning any of the elves identities.

The house-elf pointed tentatively to the door. "The master demands your presence in the Jade parlour, sir."

Draco looked at the house-elf with a bland expression. "_Demands_. Of course. Far be it from _him_ to request anything."

-

It was with an anxious heart that Draco approached the parlour where his father waited. He didn't know what was going to happen to him, despite his carefully laid plans. Every step across the dark floorboards and plush antique carpets made it harder to keep his breathing even. Everything counted on this, his ability to remain unaffected, his effort to throw his father off balance.

As he came to the arch-way, high-lighted by the inconstant waver of flame from the fireplace, Draco realized this was the moment he'd been heading toward since that morning he'd gotten himself basically thrown out of the townhouse in London. That day had been the first time he'd ever gone completely against his father, had ever dared to speak against his beliefs - everything had changed since then. He had changed since then, not exactly for what others might consider the better, (he was still demanding, and selfish, and not terribly honest) but he was what _he_ had made of himself, not what his father had groomed him to be, and that was what mattered.

Draco couldn't help the slight shudder that passed down his spine at the sight of Lucius Malfoy sitting in the large chair before the fire. Even seeing just the back of his head brought forth memories of being in this exact spot before, when he'd failed at something, _anything_, and it had been considered inexcusable, leading to punishments so severe he'd wished they'd shown on the outside, then someone might have protected him...

Giving his head a sharp shake, Draco straightened his back, and lifted his head, putting an imperious expression on his face. He held himself as erect as possible, putting to use the few inches he'd grown since he'd seen his father last. His effort proved to be futile as his father stood, and turned to face him - even leaning with deceptive indolence on the top of the chair, he still topped Draco by several inches, looking down on him as he always had, his eyes icy and speculative.

After a few moments, Lucius set his lips in a thin, disapproving line as he observed the state of Draco's attire. A small, disgusted curl of one corner of his mouth told Draco everything about his father's opinion of him. It was clear he found him low, as low as a Weasley at this point, no doubt, but for the first time ever Draco found himself completely unaffected by that look, that contemptuous sneer he himself had made a point of affecting as a child, and had used to great satisfaction ever since. It didn't matter now, and hadn't for some time, what Lucius thought of him, and Draco realized in that moment that it really was true. He'd spent the past year or so fighting against Lucius, telling himself and anyone who troubled themselves to listen, he didn't care what his father thought, and he knew now, it _didn't_.

The only thing that mattered...was Ginny.

A high-pitched squeal of pain and terror drew Draco from his reverie, and he glanced over, alarmed, to see that his father had ordered drinks, and then promptly kicked the house-elf for not moving quickly enough for his tastes. He cruelly stepped on its large, bony hand when it tried to retrieve the broken glasses from the now-stained carpet, and it bit its lips in an effort not to whimper, lest it receive a worse beating.

Draco was sickened by his father's treatment of the elf. It was nothing he hadn't seen a hundred other times in his life, but now he felt strong enough to say something about it. That was how it worked with his father, he knew. Let him know you were afraid, and the battle was lost. Frighten him, and he disappeared.

"Leave him alone, Father," Draco said almost wearily.

"What? You won't have me kicking the minions, now?" Lucius laughed darkly, motioning the house-elf away with an impatient hand. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to provoke me, giving me orders in my own house."

"I might point out it takes little to provoke you - and maybe it's time someone did," Draco said coolly, even though his heart rate increased with alarm. His fear of his father was ingrained, had been since birth, and though he was here to stand up to him, the instinct to cower was still a hard habit to break. The old man was truly furious this time around.

"No, it's time you begin listening to me! I thought I told you to get rid of that Weasley brat, not move in with it!" Lucius hissed, incensed, his light-coloured eyes shining with impending madness.

"Oh, it's far too late for that, I'm afraid." Draco's smile was self-deprecating. "I couldn't get rid of her even if I wanted to."

"Nonsense! You've been bewitched! Do you have _any_ idea what kind of embarrassment you have caused your mother and I? Your mother left yesterday to stay with her aunt in bloody _Romania_ to get away from the scandal!"

Draco laughed at the ridiculousness of it. He wasn't at all surprised his mother had run away. It was one of the things she was best at.

"I'm sure her absence has just broken you up, too, hasn't it, Father?"

The sound of fury his father made then wiped the smile straight from Draco's face. His heart jumped straight into his throat.

"You dare? _You dare?!" _Lucius raged.

"Don't act so offended, Father. Everyone in this house knows your marriage has been in name only for some time, now. Hard to love a woman when you're so devoted to a dark wizard, isn't it?" With an effort, Draco forced a smirk even as he reeled from the fact that he could be so audacious. Provoking his father so far would put an end to him, he thought - but instead of destroying him, Lucius paused, looking incredulous, and then laughed.

"Say what you will, but do not think you are getting out of this so easily."

"What? You're not going to kill me?" Draco asked, skeptical.

"You're my heir, my son, Draco, of course I wouldn't kill you." Lucius turned a lethal gaze on him. "I'll leave that up to my Lord."

Draco shook his head. "You wouldn't have any problem taking care of Ginny, though, would you, Father?" he asked bitterly, lowering his head. "Seeing as she's so worthless, and all. Nothing to be gained by her, nothing to offer you - "

"Exactly so! _There's nothing_! _She_'s nothing! She has nothing to offer _you_! Do you think that by renouncing your family, your _heritage_, you will somehow be saved? The Dark Lord owns us! There's no redemption to be had! _You_ _are a Malfoy!_"

Draco didn't respond. He kept his head down, and refused to argue. Where was the point in that anyway? Arguing, reasoning - they got him nowhere, not with his father.

Lucius seemed stunned by his son's refusal to react. He drew back slightly, his expression going blank. "She's changed you."

_Draco didn't laugh, but he did make a sound of disgust. "Oh, you're wrong there, Father," he sneered. "She didn't change me. I can't __really_ change, or be changed. I'm no fool. I'll take what I can get from her, and enjoy it while it lasts. No, I'm not looking for redemption. I am still _your_ son, after all." Draco lifted his head at last, spearing the other man with icy, unforgiving eyes through the messy fall of his hair. He smirked and lifted his wand, pointing it at Lucius, hand steady as a rock.

"In fact...allow me to prove it to you."

Lucius gave a delicate snort, tossing his head as he looked down his nose at Draco in contempt. He pulled his wand from his sleeve and pointed it at Draco. "If you kill me, you'll lose everything," he seethed. "Do you really think she'll continue to love you, a murderer?"

Draco sighed, shaking his head. "Father, _really_. Who do you think I am? You're mistaking my defiance for atonement again. Do you really think I couldn't bring myself to murder you just because of Ginny? Do you really think I couldn't keep it from her if I wanted to, or that I would allow myself to be put away in Azkaban for your murder? You taught me better than that. I learned from the best how lay blame, distract attention away from myself, dispose of unwanted...items." Draco smiled as fear finally lit the eyes so identical to his. He gave his wand a light caress.

"You wouldn't." Lucius tensed, backing away a step, completely blowing his facade of cool calm as he stumbled. Broken glass cracked under his boots, the sound disturbingly loud in the sudden silence. "You wouldn't dare do anything to me!"

Draco swallowed, the tiniest bit of regret showing in his expression as he straightened up and looked at his father for the last time. He then gave a small, careless shrug.

"I already have."

_Lucius's eyes went wide in sudden understanding, and then there was a loud explosion, and blinding light..._

-

He was free from his father's shadow at last.

Arthur Weasley and other wizards and witches from the Ministry of Magic had arrived to raid the Malfoy manor just as planned. They'd entered the building with explosive force, and his panicked father had retaliated, injuring several people, and Draco, himself, before he was overcome. But when he realized he was outnumbered, he'd set fire to his own home to destroy any solid proof they may have found to convict him of being in league with the Dark Lord.

Lucky for them, Draco just happened to know to tell them where to find several fire-proofed cellars full of forbidden artifacts underneath the manor. Arthur would still have his evidence, and plenty of it.

After his father had been apprehended, and taken to a secure room within St. Mungo's to heal while he awaited trial, Draco watched the wizards from the ministry trying to contain the hell that his home had become and shouted at them.

"No! No...let it burn."

A number of adult wizards looked back at him, some shocked that he would demand such a thing, others with knowing looks on their faces.

Draco had to shake himself to dispel a sudden feeling of dread and panic, though, as the main part of the roof collapsed in. For a long, terrifying moment, he had the thought that this was it for him. He had literally burned his bridges. He was a traitor to his family, his House - he had no where left to go, no where left to turn...and then Arthur Weasley surprised him by stepping up behind him and draping an arm around his shoulder. He looked at the older man, startled.

Arthur shook his head at the blazing inferno that had been Malfoy manor, and patted Draco's arm. "I'm very sorry about your home, son," he said quietly, regretfully.

Draco shook his head. "That place wasn't my home. It was my prison," he muttered uncomfortably, trying to sound resentful, horrified he might become emotional in front of Ginny's father. His damaged right eye ached and itched beneath the bandage a medi-wizard had plastered on him, his temple pounded like the devil, and the extreme cold was in danger of freezing off his most useful bits - wait! Had he just called him, _'son'?!_

Draco frowned and snapped his head around to look at the other man, startled, but Arthur took a deep breath, and tugged him around, leading him away from the burning house.

"All bandaged up tight? Not still dizzy, are you? Fine, fine. C'mon then. Let's get you home."

Draco looked back over his cloaked shoulder one more time, and then faced forward, expression resolute against the sharp, icy flakes, and wind biting into his skin.

He hadn't really ever called the manor 'home', and he wouldn't call Hogwarts or the Burrow home, either. From now on, Draco determined, home was wherever Ginny was.

_-_

"_I guess I should count myself lucky that all I almost lost was an eye," Ginny heard Draco telling her father dryly as they entered the Burrow. "Father lost __all_ his important parts."

Ginny's eyes watered as she smiled shakily. The sense of relief she felt was overwhelming her. Just a short while ago she'd thought she'd never hear that beautiful - if not a bit snarky - voice ever again.

"Ahem, yes, well, that _is_ quite unfortunate - "

"Did the house-elves from the manor ever arrive at Hogwarts?"

"Yes, yes, the head master said the others there were actually quite relieved to have some help readying the school for - "

"Draco?" Holding onto a doorjamb, Ginny leaned around it and eagerly searched out the blond. He was at the door, taking off his cloak. He looked a little wavering, and a little tired, and a lot...wounded.

"Oh, no! Draco! Your beautiful eye - !" Ginny cried mournfully.

"It's only temporary, it'll heal. What, you don't think a patch will make me look dead sexy?" Draco asked, his tone thick with conceit.

Torn between wanting to hug him and beat him, Ginny just threw herself against the lean strength of his chest and did her best to bury her face into his slightly smoky-scented hair. His clothes and his hair had a light coat of ice covering them, and she rubbed her hands over him in an effort to warm him up. She barely noticed when her father left the room.

"What are you pitching such a fit over? I made a promise when I left you this morning, didn't I?"

Ginny hauled off and slapped him in the arm, ignoring his groan of displeasure.

"You knew what you were going to do all along!" she accused, trying not to notice the ice making tiny diamonds on his long eyelashes, and faint blue tinge to his pale skin and lips. "You could've been _killed_ you idiot!"

Draco grabbed her hand before it could do him any further damage and winked at her with his good eye before giving her fingers a long, slow kiss. "At least you get to see me again before school starts," he offered as an incentive to sweeten her up.

"I don't care! You lied!" Ginny snapped - but she didn't pull her hand away. "I'm going to _beat_ you for scaring me like that!"

Draco pouted, and dropped her hand as if he hadn't really wanted to touch it anyway. "All right," he shrugged, nose in the air, pointedly looking away as if he'd completely lost interest in her, "just leave the face alone. It's taken enough for one day."

"Sure thing," Ginny said agreeably - before reaching out and giving his right nipple a nasty twist through his shirt where it was exposed by his half-open cloak.

"_Ow_!" Draco hissed, and slapped her hand away, glaring at her, and rubbing his chest.

"Right," Ginny said cheerfully, "I feel better now."

"Oh, I'm ever _so_ glad to hear it," Draco sneered, still staring resentfully before looking away again - though his hand hovered protectively near his chest.

"C'mon," she said, grabbing his hand and lacing her fingers through his cold ones, "look at it this way - at least I finally had enough courage to feel you up! Aren't you excited?"

Draco turned his head to look at her with a little snarl.

"Please, don't do me any more favors," he sniped, raising a hand to touch the temple not currently wrapped in a bandage. "I already have a headache, and pain isn't one of my turn-ons."

"From what I've heard, I'd be surprised if it isn't the _only_ thing that doesn't turn you on," Ginny muttered under her breath.

"Are you trying to call me easy?" Draco asked, offended.

Ginny looked at him, fighting a grin.

Draco looked as if he might come back with something, but suddenly swayed on his feet a little, his face turning even more pale.

Ginny bit back her alarm and sighed, taking hold of his arm. "C'mon, let's get you to bed."

Draco managed a small snigger that reminded her of his annoying childhood taunts. "Now who's the easy one?"

"Oh, don't make me hit you again."

-

"You musn't tell Ginny this, love, but...the only reason that boy is still standing there is because of the protection charm you two worked for him." Arthur pointed at the pair going up the stairs with a hand that still shook a little from the evening's events.

Molly gasped. "Never say such a thing, Arthur!"

"I tell you, it's true," Arthur insisted. "That medi-wizard at the site said he'd never seen such a simple charm act so powerfully." Sighing, Arthur gathered his wife under his arm and turned to watch his precious daughter and the son of his enemy disappear upstairs.

"I'll tell you something else, Molly-dearest, I don't think we'll ever have to worry if the love they have is true. After all, it saved that boy's very life."

-

"Er...welcome back," Ron offered grudgingly as they passed him by in the hall. "Your bed is still in my room, if you need it."

"Oh, _that's _inviting," Draco grumbled in Ginny's ear.

"Shut it, he's _trying_," she hissed back. "You could do with a bit of that, too, y'know."

"I beg your pardon, but I do have a few shreds of dignity left. There's also my reputation to uphold!" he snapped.

"Really? Do you think? I'll tell you what I think - _I_ think your reputation is about as shredded as your dignity at this point, so why not give up and start rebuilding." She stopped at Draco's horrified expression, and then sighed. "Relax. You can be decent to my brother and Harry without giving up your Slytherin pride, y'know."

"In what alternative universe do you think that will happen, exactly?" Draco asked with a slight snarl.

"It's easy, Draco - just be cordial in private, to keep the peace." Ginny shrugged. "You can still act as if you hate them in public."

"I _won't _be acting!" Draco claimed darkly, his undamaged eye narrowing behind the dampening spikes of his hair. "Your brother has one brain cell, and it is fighting for dominance - and as for Potter, the only reason he's here is because some idiot left his cage open."

"Tch."

Draco looked up, ready to bite someone's head off.. Conveniently, Ron was staring at him, shaking his head.

"What?" Draco challenged irritably.

Ron threw up his hands. "Thank Merlin you were an only child - 's'all I'm gonna' say."

"We couldn't be that lucky." Draco muttered bitterly, still sulking.

Ron rolled his eyes at Ginny, as if to say "Why _this_ one?", and turned away to walk down the hall. "I'll tell Harry and Hermione the bad news," he said, his dissapointment evident.

Draco actually bared his teeth at his back, and Ginny distracted him by pulling off the defrosting cloak. It hit the floor with a heavy, wet slap, and Draco turned his attention back to her in time to get pushed against the wall and be thoroughly snogged.

-

Ron, predictably, reacted to the scene with utter disgust as he, Harry, and Hermione arrived back in the hall a few minutes later.

Harry went wide-eyed and bit his cheek, and Hermione flushed with heat at the intensity of the embrace between her friend and Draco. Ginny had the blond Slytherin backed against the wall, one hand inside his half-buttoned damp shirt, the other buried in his dripping, shaggy hair. She wouldn't think about where Ginny's tongue was...

"Bloody hell, are you snogging the git _again_? You're in your mum's house, get a grip!" Ron complained with a growl, hiding his eyes behind his arm and feeling rather over-dramatically for Hermione's hand.

A loud gasp and a smack later had Draco snorting with laughter.

"Ow! What was'at for, then?" Ron demanded of Hermione, cupping his cheek. "I thought you _liked_ me holding your hand!"

Hermione glared at him, chin up-thrust, bright spots of color burning high on her cheeks. "That wasn't my _hand_, Ronald!" she snapped, giving him a narrow-eyed look that spoke volumes.

Ron's face turned red right to the tips of his ears - and then he gave his new girlfriend a crooked smile. "I...uh...I know, sorry." Coughing into his hand, he turned his head and suddenly mumbled an excuse and practically ran off.

Hermione stared after him in shock, a strange mix of outrage and pleasure on her face.

Draco laughed even harder, and unfortunately managed to draw Hermione's ire.

"Oh, stop it! It's your fault, you know, you're rubbing off on him!" she accused.

The blond Slytherin almost gagged. "Take it back!" he demanded arrogantly. "In no way, ever, have I, or will I 'rub' any part of myself, literally, or figuratively, against Ronald Weasley," he announced with utter disdain.

"You know," Ginny began, winking at Hermione, "he _is_ my brother - we share the same blood, and all...so technically - "

"I just want you to be aware," Draco muttered, looking vaguely green, "that you are currently killing any chance of my giving you children in the future."

At this, a quiet Harry and Hermione made themselves conveniently disappear, removing themselves discreetly from what felt like an increasingly private scene.

Blinking up at Draco in surprise, Ginny swallowed. This was the first time she'd really ever heard him say anything at all about the future - especially one that included her, not to mention their possible offspring.

Feeling emotional suddenly, Ginny blinked again as tears sprang to her eyes.

Draco shook off his nausea and looked down at her curiously, noting how quiet she'd gone.

"Gin?" He curved his hands around her shoulders, shaking her gently. "What's wrong?"

She sniffled a little, dashing the tears away on the back of her hand. "Children?" she asked quietly, not quite daring to look at him. "Really? You...you want to have children with me?"

Draco went very still. "Did I say that out loud?" he asked carefully, sounding embarrassed.

Ginny wiped her eyes again, trying to hide a hopeful smile. She turned away, leaning back into his chest. "You might have mentioned something akin to it, yes," she said softly. Something inside her felt so soft, warm, like a blossoming of sorts. Hard to describe, but amazing. Hope and love...she'd never loved someone so much in her entire life as she loved Draco Malfoy at that very moment. She knew then that no matter what happened between them from this point on, she'd always cherish and remember that feeling. Life felt so very precious just then...

That was when Draco Malfoy sighed and took her hand - and slipped something smooth and warm onto her ring finger.

Still lost in her cozy moment, Ginny absently glanced down at her hand. "Pretty," she murmured, wriggling the winking gems on her finger as if they belonged to someone else.

"Isn't it, though?" Draco asked in her ear, sounding amused. "Belonged to my grandmother...you know, the one responsible for my independent wealthiness, and not being scandalously impoverished and all?"

"Hmm," Ginny agreed, closing her eyes and relaxing against him, savoring his scent, and his solid warmth.

"Ginny...my father...he's never been very good at anything but following orders and terrifying everyone around him. I don't want to be like that."

That made her snap to attention. "You aren't," she said, turning in his arms to look at him again. "You couldn't ever be."

"What makes you so certain?" Draco asked, a heart-breaking self-doubt shimmering in his light eyes. "He _is_ my father, after all."

"You love me," Ginny answered simply. "Your father couldn't love anyone."

He looked down at her, disbelieving, for a long time, then inhaled deeply and looked away, eyes blinking rapidly.

"I can't change who I am, you know," he told her, an odd, harsh edge to his voice. "I'll always be arrogant, and mean, and spiteful. I'll be selfish sometimes - most of the time - and I'll always want my way."

"Well, if you can put up with Ron exclaiming something about 'Great Merlin's saggy left whatever' every half-hour, and Fred and George occasionally replacing your toothpaste with Everlasting Gurdyroot Glue, I suppose I can learn to accept you as you are."

"I suppose," Draco echoed, his expression wrinkling in disgust.

"We'll just have to suffer through it, life together, I mean."

"Yeah, It sounds bloody terrifying."

Ginny peered up at him with a look of warning, and then took his chapped hand and led him past Ron's door and down to hers.

Surprised, and unsure, Draco balked in the doorway. He looked around like he was expecting someone to attack at the moment he set one booted foot down inside her door.

Tugging impatiently, Ginny caught him off balance and pulled him into her room. He stumbled in after her. Pointing at the bed, she said commandingly, "Strip."

Draco's eyebrows shot up into his hairline. As cold and miserable as he was right now, he still felt a thrill at her demand. He smiled lopsidedly, throwing caution to the wind as he toed-off his boots, cocked his his lean hips seductively, and ever-so-slowly reached for the button on his denims - only to have his hopes collide with the ground as she quickly stepped around him and stopped at the door.

"I'm going to bring you something hot to drink. I'll be back in a minute, and you'd better be in that bed - _covered up _- when I do. _Draco_," she used his name as warning, one delicate dark red eyebrow arched as she disappeared from the doorway.

Feeling horribly robbed, Draco sniffed and used his foot to kick the door shut - hard.

-

By the end of the evening, Draco ended up having his room invaded by all the Weasley's, and to his surprise none of the males in the family threatened to un-man him for being in Ginny's bed, especially sans _anything_ but the bed-clothes. It wasn't really his fault after all. His trunk and every bit clothing he owned had been destroyed in the manor fire - and he absolutely refused to wear anything of Harry or Ron's. So until the clothes he'd arrived in were cleaned and dried, he was toga-boy. He had to admit, though, the bed and it's sheets felt much more comfortable than the lump-ridden cot in Ron's room, but that could have just been the fact that it was Ginny's.

Covered to the chin in heavy blankets, and full of a tasty hot broth laced with medicinals, Draco quickly found himself content and drowsy, even in the middle of the nosy, noisy crowd. He turned his head on Ginny's pillow, and looked for her until he saw her standing in the doorway, chatting with Hermione.

Her thick red hair was curling crazily, standing out in every direction, and her brow was still creased from her worrying over him. Her jumper was disheveled, her eyes tired, and her lips were swollen and cherry-red from biting at them constantly.

Draco smiled, a true smile, too befuddled to pay attention to how odd it felt on his lips.

She looked magnificent.

Watching her, in the midst of the chatter and the laughter, Draco asked himself if this was what he really wanted, to tie himself to this odd but welcoming family with their strange habits and constant chaos, and he thought, immediately...yes.

-

Glancing over, Ginny noticed Draco staring at her, an odd look of almost-wonder in his sleep-heavy eye, and she started shooing everyone out, citing that Draco needed his rest. Everyone left quietly, with guilty air of someone realizing they'd been inconsiderate - with the exception of her mum. She gave Ginny a look that quite clearly said "The door stays open!" and left with a just-so nod of her head.

Sighing as the stress of the day took it's toll on her, Ginny put out the light so that the only remaining light came from the hallway, and went down on her knees next to the bed. She looked at the incredibly handsome boy with his lovely tousled hair on _her pillow_ and could hardly believe how lucky she was. Laying her head on the mattress so she could look at him, she sighed again, with happiness this time, and Draco blinked his one good eye at her.

"You are going to love me," he said in a quiet whisper.

"I am," Ginny whispered back with a small nod. She loved him so much it almost overcame her. Tears pricked her eyes and tightened her throat.

"And you are going to marry me...someday," he added drowsily.

"I will. Of course I will," she whispered hoarsely, reaching under the blanket to hold his hand.

His hand tightened for just a moment before his hold slackened. His eye closed.

"Stay with me, Gin."

Ginny smoothed her other hand over his forehead, brushing back his soft hair as she thought about everything they'd been through, and all that they would still have to go through. Happiness and ever after wasn't a guarantee for them. There would be danger, and heartbreak, and misunderstandings - but she wasn't the type of girl to give up when challenged anymore.

Seeing the slight twinkle of gems on her finger, Ginny leaned forward and placed a sweet kiss on Draco's lips, promising, "_Always_."

-

End

-

A/N: Yikes, is it really done?! Many thanks to those who were kind and understanding about the wait. This fic is almost officially finished, save for an epilogue which should be up shortly - in my language, though, we all know that could be, like, two years! Ugh. Honestly, though, I'm trying to get on the ball and finish everything up. I hope you guys liked this chapter, and I'm very sorry if anyone is disappointed by it, or thought it was too short. It's been awhile since I wrote anything, so it may not be up to some folks standards. I did my best. My sincere appreciation goes to those who continued to leave me reviews and advice, and who sent encouraging e-mails for all these years. To the few people who were just harsh about the wait and my problem, all I can say is, I'm sorry for disappointing you. I am so thankful to have a fic that people enjoyed this much, and I really am sorry for the frustration you guys must've felt. Writer's Block is one of the most terrible things I've ever had to go through. It took me years to finish this one chapter, and it was exhausting. Anyway, all I can give in advice to those also struggling with severe writer's block is not to stop writing! Try to write a little something everyday, because if you just give up and walk away from it, like I did, it's like losing your wallet - _extremely_ hard to get back! Thanks, as always, for reading. - Lee

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